


Osteogenesis

by squiggly_squid



Series: Parable [9]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Childhood, F/M, Gen, Growing Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 06:12:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 144,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiggly_squid/pseuds/squiggly_squid
Summary: Parable one-shots of the time during Cassia and Damocles' childhood along with their the work their parents put into keeping their family apart from the hellish galaxy.





	1. Domesticity - 1/2188

Jane

"Remind me again where you learned how to cook?"

"Extranet?" Jane grins at Miranda's incredulous glare, pretty sure the pregnant woman is internally contemplating taking over the task of cooking for the group of herself, Jane's small family, and her mate's visiting sister and father. Of course, as much as she jump at the idea of Lawson wearing this - obnoxiously - puffy, flower covered apron that her _lovely_ sister-in-law so graciously blessed her with, Jane didn't think cooking would be healthy for the raven haired woman who looked ready to pop at even the slightest sneeze.

Solana titters a vocal sound of amusement, saying, "Be sure to remind me to let Garrus do the taste testing." Jane's retort is said well enough by Cassia tossing a handful of dried cereal treats from her highchair and onto the floor of the cramped, prefab kitchen. "Those would do better in your mouth than on the floor, young lady." Cassia merely grins, kicking her feet with chirps of happiness, and her brother - not one to miss out on any sort of fun or attention - follows suit with his own snacks being thrown to the floor. "You're doing that on purpose!"

Jane laughs at the twins and double checks the underside of some slab of meat to make sure it isn't burning in the pan. If she's to impress the in-laws, the first step is to not give them a charred briquette of a dinner. While Garrus would probably grin and bear it - only to spit it out when she's not looking - she's pretty sure serving his father and sister 'food' comparable to the bricks they're building their soon to be beach home is not the best way to impress and instill the confidence that the band of Shepard and Vakarian misfits will grow up eating anything beyond MREs and rations - and perhaps some premade, ready to heat and serve meals.

On the other hand is the human food she's currently trying to both not ignore completely, but not constantly check in the oven. Chicken, Miranda had told her, can either be raw - _which is very bad, Shepard. No shit, Miranda._ \- overly dry, or just right, and Jane hasn't felt that kind of pressure since the Reaper War's end over a year ago. Where she'd rather give over a dinner made of sawdust over something still ready to cluck and jump off the plate to start pecking for seeds - and putting her pregnant friend at risk of getting seriously sick - she's determined to make sure she can accomplish that middle ground. She was Commander Fucking Shepard, dammit, so she will not be beaten by a dead chicken or dead Xemna.

_Let's not get started on the sides…_

"I still don't know why you didn't let me help." Sol's huff of frustration at picking up the discarded food, only to find more thrown over in a new game the laughing twins just devised. "I could've shown you how to make Xemna better than any extranet link."

"And I could have cooked a better chicken-"

"Yes, yes." Jane waves at them to shut it. "Everyone's a critic. I swear, even Garrus doesn't bitch at me so much and he's eaten my food since the _beginning."_

"And is somehow still alive," Miranda adds and gets a narrow eyed look that only makes her chuckle.

Jane simply rolls her eyes. "Keep that up and I won't tell you the secrets of surviving the nightmare that is no sleep a la newborn." The woman merely rolls her eyes and Jane speaks over her shoulder as she starts to stir something that looks like purple spinach on the stove. "And, trust me, no amount of perfect genes are going to keep you sane after nights and nights of no sleep, aching tits, and the nagging feeling of 'I should really work off this baby stomach, but I'm so damn _tired_ '." She gestures with the spoon at the two women. "You have it easy, Sol, because you don't know the pain of any of it, and you," she motions Miranda, "have only seen the beginning with pregnancy pains."

"Shepard, you had _two_ babies. And hybrids that take after their _turian_ father, at that. That's vastly different." At Jane's flippant wave off, Miranda continues. "And I've made sure when I implanted Alexia that any difficulties would be anticipated and did what I deemed possible to correct them before they presented without harming or altering the embryo herself."

"Wait." Solana hums from behind and Jane glances over to see her address Miranda on what is still something she has to commend Miranda on. After all, finding a way to make yourself fertile when even your unique nature said otherwise with a giant, glaring 'no'. "Implanted? As in in vitro?"

"Exactly. It wasn't exactly logical to become pregnant during the war, even if I wasn't directly in the front lines. I saved samples from… my partner." Jane can sense the frown in that pause and stills over her cooking when the memory of cradling a sobbing and broken Miranda on the dead Citadel rushes forth. Sol emits an understanding rumble as Lawson takes a moment to collect herself, to focus on the good that came from her relationship with Margo. "I have Shepard to thank for Alexia, actually."

"Whoa, now. I don't know that much of biology, but I'm pretty sure I had no involvement in that."

Miranda chuckles slightly. "Not directly, but when Mordin found that you were pregnant, he took samples and correlated data he took from your pregnancy and my own infertility. While interesting, I didn't think of it until during the war, when it was almost too late." Jane looks back to see the woman look away from her gaze, a shroud of shame over her shoulders not unlike the very same as when Lawson once told her of the control chip so insistently wanted to install within the redhead's brain. "I'm still sorry about performing the implantation of the tech without your assent, but I can't be sorry for what came of it."

Figuring it'll be okay to leave the food alone for at least a few moments, Jane goes to the woman and lays a hand on her shoulder. "Neither am I. Without that tech, I wouldn't have the twins, you wouldn't have the chance to have your daughter, the krogan wouldn't be having babies right now, and - more seriously - we'd probably have lost the fucking war." She smiles and looks to her kids still giving their aunt a run for her money after her insistence of watching them when she couldn't cook. "Thanks for that little invasion of privacy and violation of my lady parts."

Miranda chuckles and stands up, hugging her as best as she can with her large belly. Jane has to stretch her arms, but she manages to lay her hands over Miranda's shoulder blades in their warm embrace. Sol purrs at the gesture so unusual for turians, but one she's slowly growing accustomed to by experience with the nearly two year old twins' demands for physical affection from everyone in their presence. Her vocal sound is cut off, though, with a soft sniffle. "Is something burning?"

"Shit!"

* * *

Garrus

The overall construction of the Wraith compound in the past months blossomed ever since he and his family made Virmire their unconventional home. Protected on the north by tall, rocky cliffs and on the south by an outcropping that breaks up when it hits the sandy shore and into a field of differently shaped stones, boulders, and islands peppered throughout the sea to the west. A dense and almost unnavigable jungle lay in the east of the compound, creating both a cover for the collection of prefab homes for the Wraiths' men and their families and a natural wall against any attack from between the trees.

The largest structure was their operations outpost against the southern boundary of the compound. It was massive and comparable to most Hierarchy and Alliance tactical bases Garrus had seen before and held everything needed to actually run such a large mercenary company as the one they were building. It was large enough to sport a large dock that could hold the Normandy and at least two similarly sized vessels along with numerous gunships ready for deployment.

A comm tower coordinated with the groundside ships and handful of orbiting Wraith vessels 'obtained' through means Garrus wasn't really willing to question - but was assured didn't come illegally - as well as housed their QEC systems. Located on each unprotected corner of the compound were AA towers powered by highly advanced VIs thanks to Legacy and Rym's interest in developing tech with what they managed to salvage from EDI - who they were sure was only weeks away from revival - and geth data.

In order to support the vast amount of people now under their command and looking to them for a safe haven, the Wraiths employed non-combative settlers into their service - one of their most important contributions the large farm where they could supply both food and means of trading for livestock offworld. Each was just as loyal to them as those fighting for their credits as this compound presented a way to get away from structured society without becoming violent criminals. In a large way, these people reminded Garrus of the team he failed on Omega, each becoming a 'misfit' to the civilized world without crossing that a thin line into corruption the word 'mercenary' often invoked.

There was still something missing, however, and he was determined to fix that. He made a promise to build his family a home and, Spirits damn it, he would give them that, and build it with his own hands.

Using his knowledge in mathematics in a way he never thought he'd need, Garrus had worked alongside his wife to design the blueprints for a house that would fit perfectly with their hopes of a future on a tropical beach. They already had the beach and tropical part down, so the next step called for him to put down his weapons - for now, at least - and, much to his denial, pick up a hammer.

His father's rumble draws him from his work of laying and securing bricks in a slowly growing perimeter of the outer wall and he looks up to see his father's eyes scanning the bustling compound. "I'm proud of you, son." Chuckling, he looks back down to his son. "I know I never envisioned this when raising you, but I can't see you doing anything else."

"Even if this isn't the 'right way'?"

A frown flickers over his father's face before he sighs and shakes his head. "After seeing the things you and Jane have done, the way you had to do it, I see that not everything is as black and white. If you both had followed the rules and done things by the book, we'd all be dead." He comes over to sit beside where Garrus works on a crate of supplies and starts handing him bricks when needed. "There is still a need for people to follow protocol, but I see now that there must be those willing to go beyond the law. It's… not something easy to consider after so long. But it's something I know you can do without becoming blinded by the power that comes from being your own law."

Garrus hums as he smooths mortar over the layer of brick further down the wall he's working on. "I don't know if I could guarantee that before. I can admit I wasn't exactly ready for something like this even a few years ago, but everything that's happened? Being with Jane both as she is and her as a Commander? Starting a family of my own?" New brick in hand, he stops and starts at the sand-colored stone. "The galaxy needs people willing to do the dirty work in order to clean up the messes due process can't. I will ensure the Wraiths never forget that, never ignore our goal to not be just like any other mercenary."

"And the Council?"

Growling, he slams the brick down hard enough to emit a soft splat of mortar against his already dirty coveralls. "Damn the Council. We weren't lying when we told them that anyone they send is dead." He looks to his father, ready to defend his stance, but only seeing a reluctant understanding. Whoever his father once was has been worn down by the last few years into a more yielding and understanding man. "I know it's not what you would want, but I have to protect my family now. I can't follow the rules of a galaxy when even my own children have defied those very laws of possibility. People get afraid of what they don't understand, of what they thought impossible, and I can't let my children suffer that."

His father raises a hand before offering another brick with the other. "You don't need to explain yourself to me, Garrus." His mandibles flick as he looks away with a saddened hum. "I wasn't really the model of a good father, so I can't judge you for wanting to do whatever it costs to protect your own children."

"Dad-"

"You don't need to put comforting me on your shoulders. I know what I did, but I'm trying to fix it while I still can. I want to prove to you that I can be a better father, a better man, by being there for you and yours in any way possible." A soft smile spreads his mandibles as he lays the next brick on the line himself. "I hope you can someday forgive me for all I've done - or didn't do."

Garrus returns the smile. "I've forgiven you long ago."

"Hey!" Solana's voice reverberates over the sandy beach as she leans out of the small prefab Garrus is ashamed to make his small family live in. He takes at least some relief in that he doesn't have to share with his father and sister like they once had to on Earth after the war. With their home on Palaven and helping their people rebuild, Garrus and Jane can at least breathe in what will be their home until the time he and Jane can finish their home. "Food's ready!"

"Sounds like Jane hasn't burnt the prefab down," he says with a chuckle and lays the last brick for now before brushing off his hands. Following his father towards the house, he smiles at Cassia slowly stomping out to meet him. "There's my little princess." Using human endearments for their children has definitely grown on him, even if it still confuses the hell out of any aliens in earshot still not used to it. After so long apart, his family is among them. Chuckling, he shrugs in response to his dad's confused head tilt and bends down to hoist up his daughter.

"Human thing, I assume?"

"Pretty much." He nuzzles Cassia, smelling the clean scent of cleansing wipes on her that explains just why she's running around when she should be in her feeding chair and ready for dinner. "Aunt Sol saved me from having to change you? I must have done something really good for the Spirits to bless me from _that_."

"Daddy, no," she declares with a slight push away from his chest and scrunched up face.

"No?" He snorts and sets her into her high chair, turning to his wife passing by with a platter of Xemna, Pourka, and slightly burnt Vaegi to pull her into a tender kiss. "Your daughter doesn't like me anymore."

She chuckles and pushes him to the sink, saying, "Good. More cuddles for me."

Snorting, he washes his hands and grabs the last plate of a human 'chicken' that looks like it's already been cut into from the counter and joins his family sitting around the table. "Where's Miranda?"

"She headed over to see Elihu." Jane takes the platter and sets it down before her place between his own seat and Damocles' highchair so that Sol can sit between the two twins and share her food. "She's a bit nervous about her labor being induced tomorrow, and you know how she is."

"Wanting to control every aspect of the delivery?" She snorts and nudges him with her hip as she serves his sister with extra food for the twins. "It smells amazing, Jane." Getting an incredulous look, he rumbles and smirks innocently before adding, "Well, except for the lingering scent of burning Vaegi."

"Just eat your purple spinach, smart ass." Giving herself a portion of her own food. "Sol? Do you want me to get you a separate plate for the twin's levo food?"

She waves it off. "I'm not allergic to any levo food, so just stuff it somewhere on my plate."

"Do they like levo?"

Garrus shrugs at his father's question, offering a good portion of Xemna to where he sits at his left. "They eat it. We don't know what it tastes like to them, but they don't shove it away." At that, Damocles throws a piece of food onto his mother's plate with a growl. "Well, they still throw food."

"Hey!" Jane scowls and grabs the piece of purple vegetables between her fingers and props her arm on her elbow, pointing this in their son's face. "You better eat this."

"No!" He giggles and Cassia grins around her own handful of juicy Xemna.

Sighing, Jane looks to him. "Can you believe this asshole? Throwing food at me and then not eating - Look!" She quickly points up and above, making their twins snap their heads up to look. It gives her the perfect chance to drop a small piece of the offending vaegi into their son's mouth and he purrs, grinning at the dinner he apparently likes, but can't seem to keep from making a mess of. "Ah ha! Take that, smart ass."

 _And here my wife argues and does everything to fool our son into eating his vegetables._ Garrus can't seem to argue with her tactics, and laughs at his father's completely flabbergasted stare. "Never seen that done before?"

"Spirits, no. Your mother used to hum and sing to you."

Jane snorts. "Fuck that. These two little shits would never fall for it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by the lovely BlastedKing here: https://blastedking.tumblr.com/


	2. Terrible Twos - 9/2188

Jane

She really had to give it to her mate, he really knew how to build a home. She never doubted his ability to get shit done once he put his mind to it - the bastard too damn stubborn to quit - but building a beach house for the two of them and the kids almost _single-handedly_ was a feat that trumped her own. What's killing the Reapers compared to building this two storied masterpiece by hand with minor help from herself and the occasional visitor from their Normandy family?

Jane wasn't much for gauging the 'style' of buildings and architecture, but she knew even with the beach-home look, there lay many hidden secrets and defenses Garrus devised to protect their family even here on Virmire. Large windows along the living area and master bedroom belayed the fact that the panes were triple reinforced with a secondary protection of massive metal shutters that could be drawn up from their concealed compartments beneath the large sun deck.

The front of the home - and windows and balconies of the two upper rooms meant for the twins as they grew older - had a large entryway laid in sand-colored, square stones broken with massive windows that spanned from the ground floor and up to the second, overshadowed by a small overhang of the silver roof. Even reinforced, Garrus didn't trust this side of their home to be open to the sea and rolling waves and built it so that their children's rooms would overlook the Wraith's living sector, protected by the heavily organized and guarded compound they faced.

Stepping through the entryway lead into a beautifully designed, marble floored foyer. Half steps lead onto a platform that soon broke off into more side steps on each corner that lead right and left into a large, open living area. Directly above the open hall between entry and living area, a walkway bordered in dark wooden banisters lay above and connected the upper floor bedrooms on either side. Two locked doors in the hall lead to an armory on one side and a workout room on the other, both built to be secure and without windows in case worst came to worst and the family needed to bunker down against enemies.

Up the short steps to the left lay the kitchen - and small breakfast counter closer to the windows overlooking the beach - and stairs leading up to the second story. A wall broke the kitchen from seating area, a dining table directly opposite before opening into the high-ceilinged, window surrounded collection of couches and entertainment system.

Across the deck from the kitchen and past the seating room, shaded windows and a small glass paned door led into the master bedroom, a large room they were currently trying to share with their twins while the finishing construction upstairs was complete. Once complete, the two of them would have the large bedroom - larger than the Loft on the Normandy, even - all to themselves from the walk-in closet to the luxurious spa of a bathroom that led to it.

Jane didn't know much about the design of the upper floors - the second with the twin's rooms and open airy loft above - but she knew her husband well enough to know the meticulous work he's put into the beautiful doesn't end on just this level of the home. Never, in all their wishes of a future in retirement, did she imagine a home like this and she also didn't ever expect to see her mate develop such skills to bring it to life.

 _Time to enjoy this house while we can before the two little monsters rip it apart_. As if on cue, monstrous stomping like a stampede of klixen come plowing through the living room and into the kitchen where she and Ellie share cups of tea and companionable small talk. "Here they come," she says as she quickly sets down her mug and watches Damocles and Cassia, arms full of toys from their play on the seating area's floor. "Think of the little devil spawn and they shall come."

Ellie chuckles softly and smiles at Cassia showing her a toy of a human princess doll. "She's beautiful, sweetheart." The little toddler grins and flaps her mandibles, chirping, but Damocles on Jane's side of the breakfast table merely shoves a toy varren at her.

"I don't want that." He makes a growling whine and jerks his shoulders in a pout. "What?" She chuckles and takes it. "Fine, fine. Thank you." Smiling, she jerks her chin towards the pile of toys on the rug laid out before the living room windows. "Why don't you go play some more?" She points at the large, bulky ship toy meant for safety with little people prone to putting everything under the sun in their mouths. "I bet that ship's captain could show Cassia's princess doll a ride to her… uh…"

"Ball?"

"Right." Jane nods in thanks to the older woman. "Her ball… to see her prince."

"No."

"No? Why no?" She lifts a brow in confusion at his stern shake of his head. "She doesn't want to go? Cassia?" Looking to her daughter, the little child grins and bounces on her feet. "Does she want to go to a princess party?" Cassia nods rapidly with chitters of excitement. "Then ask Damocles if he can fly her there. What do you say, Damocles?"

"No!" He throws the toy on the ground with a huff of upset and it clatters across the tile floor.

"What the hell was that for?" Narrowing her eyes, Jane is damn sure her son is testing her for something she has no chance of understanding. Not unless she was two years old, apparently. "Alright, I'll bite. What do you want?". Damocles clambers closer and grabs the hem of her shirt, trying to use it to climb up. "Words! Words! Don't ruin my damn shirt!"

"Gimm-me-ee!" His hand gropes the air towards his varren toy on the table with needy, desperate grunts and Jane sighs, completely lost at what this kid is thinking in that tiny head of his. "Mine! Mine!"

Throwing up her hands in surrender, Jane grabs the toy and hands it over. Damocles snatches it from her hand and runs towards the living room. "Not so fast, young man!" He stops mid step and spins, frown of frustration on his face. "Pick that up," she says and points to the ship on the kitchen floor. Instead of listen, Damocles merely shakes his head as he's like to do lately since their second birthday and she sighs, fighting not to give away any sign of weakness by rubbing her temple. _I can stare down charging krogan, so, certainly, I can get one little child to listen to me._ She tries to change tactics. "If you get that, I'll give you a cookie?"

"Nuh-uh." _Dammit. "_ Don't want."

"Damocles." She uses the 'Commander Shepard' voice - minus some ire for any poor bastard looking at the business end of her gun. "Pick. That. Up. Don't make me get your father." _Who will be about as successful, if not less so, than me._

"No!" He starts to clench his eyes shut, vocals raising to high and piercing trills. _Jesus this kid can fucking belt it._ Soon, Cassia begins to frown up at the two older women in accusation, and Jane knows that one is about to start up. _Quick! Find a way to stop the fire!_

"Damocles." Ellie's voice is stern, yet not enraged as she stands and looks down at the boy in the midst of his defiant tantrum. "Pick up your toys."

Her calm command seems to cut through the stubbornness as Damocles sniffles and looks up at his aunt. Their eyes seem to stare each other down before he gives in and ducks his head with a soft, "Okay." Properly scolded into listening with just the nonverbal promise of punishment, he runs over and picks up his toy.

"Ah-ah," she says, stopping him from running back to their play in the living room behind his jovial and already recollected sister. "Say you're sorry to mommy."

His tiny blue eyes look up to Jane, glistening with as close to tears as he can psychically get, and she smiles softly in promise that he isn't in any more trouble than this stern talking to. "Sorry."

"Forgiven," she says and leans down to kiss his fringe - which he promptly tries to scrub off. "Now go play." He nods and rushes back to their unexplainable game of jumbled words, sounds, and crashing toys. Once out of earshot, Jane narrows her eyes in suspicion at Ellie as she returns to the table and her tea. "How the hell did you do that?"

Chuckling, she shrugs. "I have no idea. I merely told him to do it."

"Bullshit. Garrus and I try everyday to get them to do shit and it's always 'no' until we have to trick them into doing it or get mad at them. Which we really hate." She jerks a hand towards the twins. "And you just waltz in and they listen! What. The. Fuck."

"They're just toddlers. I'm sure they'll grow out of it."

"Says?"

"The vids and extranet?" As Jane lifts a brow, Ellie shrugs. "I may have been researching children like them ever since coming back in hopes that you'd let me babysit someday."

Jane's expression softens as she looks over her grey-haired friend and nods. "You only had to ask. You've only been here about a month, and I didn't want to force anything on you." She huffs a laugh and sips her tea, putting it down to add, "And Arcanus is the last one I'd ever imagine _asking_ to do anything along the lines of 'babysitting'."

"'I do not _babysit,_ I have much more important matters to attend to'," Ellie impersonates, making a stern and slightly exasperated expression on her face, and Jane laughs. "But I'm not asking about Arcanus watching them, _I_ want to watch them."

Snorting, Jane waves a hand in a 'have at 'em' towards the living area. "Go away and take them whenever you please. I think Garrus might thank you for taking them away for a bit so he can work without having to worry about what ifs or stop what he's doing whenever I have to piss or what not. Besides, sometimes I need to _breathe_ without 'momma! Momma!' at all hours of the day."

Still, even with her frustrations, Jane can't help the happy chuckle of thinking to all the ridiculousness she has to put up with now that it's already in the past. In the moment, she questioned her sanity of ever having the children in between bouts of pulling out her hair, but when she can think back on them, she can see the enjoyment those two little bastards have brought into their lives. "If you really want to spend time with them, you only have to ask and you can spend however long. You apparently have more control over them than I do. _But -_ and this is a big one - they still haven't mastered potty training, so you might want to wait."

Ellie chuckles and moves to refill her mug with some steaming water and dip in a new tea bag. "I've never ever thought about that, but I'm sure it shouldn't be too hard if they've already started learning." Jane snorts and the woman laughs. "That bad?"

"Not really, but let's just say I never really thought about how turians go until I started with them." While she's spent so long with Garrus and managed to change their diapers, she hadn't really considered the fact that they wouldn't all have the same anatomy as herself. It was quite the shock when Garrus sat them down - even their son - and told them to go 'potty' without teaching Damocles how to urinate standing up.

"Surprised by the cloaca thing?"

"Surprised is putting the entire night of me utterly flabbergasted and stuttering as I tried to restart my brain." How was she supposed to know that all waste comes from one place? Sure, she'd heard the word 'cloaca' used plenty of times, but she didn't know it actually _worked_ that way. At least, she figured, it helped her potty train the kids whenever her mate was too busy or not around to do it. All she had to explain was why she looked different, but that wasn't too difficult a conversation at this age beyond the repeated 'why's. "Good to know about that now and not make a fool of myself around anyone smart enough to remember my shock. Well, besides Garrus, but I've had to explain weird human stuff enough to him to have a freebie."

"Speaking of differences between species, what are your plans for languages?"

She hums around a sip of tea and sets down her glass, drumming her fingers against the ceramic. "Garrus and I talked about it. I think we'll keep with the Galactic Standard at least until Garrus is done with the house and then we'll start with, at least, Palaven and Alliance Standard. I'm not sure if he wants to teach them Palaveni as well, though."

"Right, because it's like Latin for us. Barely used anymore."

Jane nods. "He knows it, his family knows it, but not many turians do. Especially not turians not Palaven born." Looking over to the twins, she exhales a heavy breath at the idea of the amount of work that will definitely need to be put into this task. "We figure that even if we can't all pronounce the same languages, we will at least be able to understand them. I can't exactly speak any turian language beyond a few sounds, and they won't be able to speak English, but at least we can understand what each of us is saying." She chuckles and looks to Ellie. "And writing, now that I think of it, but hell if we're starting with that too."

Ellie smiles and nods. "You know, Arcanus and I made a sort of promise and dare to learn each other's language."

"And how did that work out?" Jane lifts a brow as Ellie clears her throat, makes some clicks with her tongue followed by a low roll of her tongue. Once done, the redhead quirks the corners of her lips and tilts her head in a nod of 'not bad'. "What did you say."

"Hello, friend, my name is El." She shrugs. "It's the closest thing to my name without horribly mistranslating it back into English." Making a mock pout, she adds, "Arcanus thinks I sound like a dying whale once he saw them on a vid."

Jane laughs and nods. "Now that you say it - hey!" Jerking in mock surprise of the woman tossing her damp spoon napkin at her, she snorts and waves her hand. "Hey, I'll probably brutalize it too. Was that Standard?" Ellie nods.

"I don't actually know if Arcanus knows Palaveni, he's never told me."

"Garrus mentioned that it's hard even for them to speak if they haven't been speaking it all along and that it's not really translatable to other languages by Palaven Standard. Sounds like a pain to try and learn as a human."

"You're probably right." Her next words die on her lips as the terrors come running back into the kitchen to crowd Jane. "Looks like mom's in high demand today."

Jane snorts and sets her mug down to turn her attention to the twins. "Just you wait." Looking down to her son and daughter, she smiles. "What's up?"

"Hungry, mommy," Cassia says with a pout of her lip and mandibles that she knows is sure to get her whatever she wants. Usually, Jane tries to pretend she's unaffected where her husband falls all over their daughter for it, but she always breaks, only putting on a show of strength. _These little jerks are my weakness._

"And what about you?" She asks her son and he grins, nodding so roughly she's sure he'll get a killer of a headache. "Why do I ever ask? Of course you are." Chuckling, she lays a hand on his head and smiles at her daughter with her doll still in hand.

"What do you feel like? Some Blasto Bits?" She lifts a brow at their head shake and stands, heading to the cabinets to look for food. "A peanut butter and jelly sandwich?" Another head shake and she crosses her arms, turns to them, and leans a hip back on the counter. "Afli slices." No. "Cheese and louza sandwiches." No. Jane sighs at nearly all of their favorite foods going out the window. "You gotta give me a hint." They yell together, jumbling up any legible answer, and Jane chuckles, holding up her hands to still their shouts. "Whoa, calm down and tell me one at a time."

Cassia is first to blurt out an excited squeal of "Ice cream!" and Damocles shortly follows her up with a chirping demand of "Fwrench fries!"

"You're kidding, right? You wanted that last night. You can't live off of ice cream and french fries, you two."

"But I want it!'' Cassia stomps a foot and juts her chin in a pout, butt Jane shakes her head.

"Mommy! Pwrease?!" Damocles tries his best to be cute, and Jane almost looks to Ellie for help when the light thumbs of work boots comes down the side stairs from the upper floors.

"What's this I hear about food?" Her husband asks with a chuckle and cheerful - yet tired - rumble, but it soon grinds to a halt as he catches sight of the near tantrum situation. "Uh oh."

"'Uh oh' is right," Ellie says with a smile hidden behind her tea.

Looking to him, her eyes pleading, Jane motions the twins. "Remind these little monsters why it's important to eat more than sugary and salty shit?"

His mandibles click against his paint smeared chin before he looks down to them and lifts a brow plate. "Damocles, Cassia. You both know you can't have only ice cream and french fries." He chuckles and shrugs. "At least like turian food-"

"Not. Helping."

That only gets her a smirk before he nods once in 'you're right' and she can't quite blame him for wanting some amusement in his hard days - days that wouldn't be so long and tiring if he'd just let her help him. "Your mother is right," he says as he kneels down. "You need to eat real food now. You can have ice cream and fries _with_ your snacks, but not as the only thing."

Damocles growls in frustration while his sister stomps her foot again. " _Please?_ " She draws out the word with a needy whine, knowing that her father's resistance isn't as strong when he's been working, but, thank gods, he stands firm and shakes his head.

"No, Cassia." He stands and nudges them both towards the dining table and to their two chairs that sit higher to level the younger Vakarians with the table. "Now sit while mommy makes us something to eat. _Then,"_ he continues in order to cut off their protests and questions, "you can have what you want. But only as much as mommy says."

 _Yeah, thanks. Make me the one to deal with_ _**that**_ _big a responsibility. I might as well be taking on a yahg with nothing but sweet talks and good intentions._

 _ **Love you too, Jane.**_ She gives him a glare from the kitchen and he flicks a mandible in a smirk. At that, she flicks a very expressive gesture with her finger with the twins in a position where they can't see. _**Let's make sure you don't teach them that anytime soon**_ **.**

Jane waves him off and searches the fridge for some supplies to make the three each a sandwich, the twins a mix of levo and dextro and their father a larger dextro only portion. She can hear Garrus talking with the twins, his low voice at odds with the excited and high pitched chatter of their children. Ellie watches her make one sandwich meant for one of the kids before wordlessly grabbing another plate and making the second.

"Might as well learn what they want if I'm going to be babysitting soon," she explains with a smile as Jane looks between the plate and woman with a quirked brow. "Is this what they usually eat?"

"It's the most we can get them to eat for a snack. Fills them for the time being without actually keeping them from being hungry for dinner." She sighs. "Be ready for their tastes to be in constant transition, though. Last week it was pickles and cookies."

Ellie laughs and offers to take the two kids plates while Jane leads with her mate's. "I'm not surprised. I used to take care of my cousin when I was a teenager. She was probably the pickiest child around - until now," she adds with a chuckle as she sets the plates down.

Damocles looks expectantly for his fries and pouts when he doesn't find them, but Jane lays a hand on his shoulder. "Easy there, soldier," she says with a chuckle at his angry arm cross - _The attitude is strong with this one._ "Mommy just doesn't have enough hands." _Also, I was trying to see if you'd forget._

_**Nice try with that one.** _

_Shut it or I'll leave you to bath them - alone._

He actively shutters at the threat, the twins some of the hardest creatures to bathe in the Milky Way. Where one will splash and make a large enough mess to flood the room as she plays, only to run around the house naked in some imaginary world, the other will fight tooth and talon to keep from ever touching the warm water as if he'll melt in an instant. It takes both saviors of the galaxy working together just to get the two cleaned.

Oh, how they have fallen. From Reapers to nightmare two year olds.

Heating up a pair of individually packaged french fries in their heating unit, Jane motions with her chin to Ellie to grab their mugs of tea in order for them to join the others at the table as she grabs the ketchup. _Can never eat fries without ketchup. Universal, I guess._

Once seated beside her mate, Jane watches as Ellie - despite her fears - falls into an easy and relaxed conversation with the twins. At least, the closest thing to a conversation with babbling toddlers that have a tendency to murder all intelligible language and invent their own jumbled words. Even worse is their habit of giving anyone who can't understand their secret language a look of complete disbelief. Still, Ellie handles it well and, with a shared look to her mate, Jane realizes that both the woman's worries were unfounded and that Ellie will protect their children just as anyone else in their chosen Normandy family would. There's just something about the chemistry between the three that makes her sure of it.


	3. Gifts 4/2189

Soft waves of crystal blue waters lap at the soft sand on this lazy day. Clouds hang over the sea in the distance, but they've learned of Virmire's weather by now. Dark clouds always threaten of storms, but always dissipate before they ever reach the shore. Only a few months of relatively bad weather exist in between the abnormally long summer and spring. Comparing it to his homeplanet of Palaven, Garrus has to admit that their new home is both familiar, yet more pleasant than where he grew up.

The hills outside of Palaven where he grew up suffered heavy rains during the stormy seasons that pasted as their winters. Rains left the air humid and heavy, never quite chilling the ever present heat that would soon turn blistering in the heated season that prevailed over all others. Here, on Virmire, the rains are cold to the point of bordering on discomfort for his own preferences, but it leaves a clean scent that rises from the rich jungle flora and a crispness to the air. The sunny seasons warm the air without the slightly tingling sensation of Trebia's radiation that comes from returning to Palaven after long periods away. Here, his family - even his thinner skinned human mate who still has to wear some sort of cream to protect her fair skin from the sun - can bask in the sun on the warm sands and escape to the shade of the trees further into the compound should they need to.

Now, if only they could find a way to combat the growing weariness and boredom from being idle so long. It seems like, after so long of war running through their veins, they have become addicted to the adrenaline rushes, life or death battles, flying gunfires, and wounds that'll leave their skin, hide, and plates painted with scars. The twins and a life of domesticity has become their life, but Garrus now realizes it can only ever be but a part of the whole - the other being their need for the sound of gunfire and battle cries.

Doesn't mean they have to return to fighting others' battles.

With their hand in the Wraiths, Garrus and Jane can not only be a part of the decisions of what jobs their men will take, but what contract _they_ choose. Whether they are taking on a new role of protection or transportation, or something a bit closer to home with guaranteed hostility and promise of weapons fire, they have a hand in every aspect of their new self-appointed duties. With a datapad of possible mercenary contracts in hand, he finds it difficult to imagine ever falling under someone's command again.

He snaps out of his blank, contemplative stare at the datapad and down to his wife's voice from closer to the soft sound of waves brushing the shores. A few paces further down the beach is the group of children and women playing or lounging in the shade of a large umbrella wedged in the sand. A pregnant Aelia sleeps in the bright sun on her own lounger while Miranda plays with her daughter in a safe tub dug into the sand for water safe for the small infant. Damocles and Cassia have taken to digging in the sand for shells, stones, or whatever other treasures they are determined to find.

One such treasure seems to have caught Cassia's attention as she bounces at his mate's side, cupping something in her tiny hands. He can't quite hear what Jane is saying at this distance, but, upon approaching, hears her ask with a warm sound of awe in her voice. "What did you find?"

"Here, mommy," their daughter says with a chirp and grins as she practically shoves whatever she found into Jane's hands once she sits up.

"It's, uh, really sandy." She offers a lopsided smile to their excited daughter as she rubs roughly at the shape in her hand, flaking sand off and onto her dotted bathing suit just as Garrus ducks under the parasail and into the shade. "Look at this, Garrus."

Her request is more a plea for help figuring out what she's been given, but he knows she doesn't want to upset their little one, so he flicks his mandible slightly in understanding without more explanation. Taking the offered item, he hums and picks at the bits of sand sealed to the surface by he doesn't know how many years. Little by little, he starts to reveal a purple and blue-green banded, smooth surfaced shell that curls inward to tuck into it's milky white center. It's quite a find even if Garrus has no clue just what kinds of shells are abundant here on Virmire, and he purrs at the way the shell seems polished in the places where he managed to remove the majority of the sand.

"It's beautiful, Cassia," he says warmly as he hands it back to Jane to take a look. If her light gasp is anything to go by, his mate finds it just as valuable a treasure.

"Damn right it is." She runs her fingers along the bands of color with a growing grin. Cassia crosses her hands behind her back, lifting to her toes in pride, and Jane chuckles. "Thank you."

"You're welcome!" When Jane opens her arms for a hug, their daughter rushes up to return it and, as result, covers her mother in the sand on her hands from her and her brother's escapades into digging up hidden treasure.

Soon, Cassia breaks the hug and hops back to where her brother digs a big hole in the sand, only to find most of what he's thrown out to come pouring back into the way of his efforts. The sight of the two of them now working in tandem to make said hole into a sand trap for anyone unlucky enough to not watch where they're walking makes Garrus chuckle and a warm feeling of happiness to spread through his chest. Moments like these are what he lives for, what makes all the horrors they went through - and, dare he say it, even Jane's _death_ \- seem necessary because, without those circumstances, they'd never have a set of twins whose existence was deemed impossible. Not that he'd ever chose to go through that hell again given the choice.

"I can't imagine the work it's going to take to get all that sand out of their plates." Lifting his brow plates in question, he finds his wife has moved back to lounging in the shade on her plush beach chair. She chuckles at his confusion before motioning vaguely in the twin's direction without actually opening her eyes. "I call 'not it'."

"Wait… You didn't even let me understand before you said that." Mandibles twitching, he nudges her to move over and sits beside her while he sets down the datapad. "Dirty play."

She snorts and smirks, wiggling on the lounger in a feigned attempt to look like she's innocently getting comfortable. "Don't be such a slow ass."

From where she sits in the sand, however, Miranda makes a slight tsk and shakes her head with a soft "Like children." Her attention quickly returns to her daughter, Alexia, as she makes a high coo at the baby splashing and laughing.

"Eh." His wife shrugs. "Don't listen to her. 'Not it' still stands." Wiggling her toes, she stretches her legs and arms in a very obvious attempt to _convince_ him of his apparent reward.

"Not falling for that," he deadpans before leaning over and kissing her with a soft nip on the lips. "Tell you what. How about we double up? Like old times."

Her brow quirks up as she huffs a laugh. "You mean _both? At the same time?_ We're asking for it." Still, she smiles and nods, sitting up to kiss him properly. "You're lucky you're so convincing. But I'll make you pay for that."

"Promises. Promises." Leaning back against her side, he picks up his datapad and begins to scroll through all of the possible contracts Arcanus set up for them. "How can there already be so many people ready and willing to hire us? We barely made a name for the Wraiths."

She shrugs, but doesn't speak, eyes closed and head back against the rest. Instead, she merely hums in acknowledgment as he sighs and sets the pad down again to look over later. Preferably when she's in a mood to offer insight. For now, he sees no harm in joining her in enjoying the day - maybe even moving out of the parasol's shadow to bask in the warmth of the sun as Aelia has.

"We've gotten fat… and lazy," his mate says to cut through the silence.

Chuckling, he pokes her waist through her dotted swimsuit and gets a grunt back. "If you call yourself fat, I'd like to hear your description of those volus looking humans."

"Volus looking… Oh." She laughs loud, her chest shaking and loose strands of hair falling into her face from her subsiding giggles as she looks over to him. "It'd be best for us both if you don't say that in public. Able to get us kicked out and banned from establishments."

"If falling through a sushi restaurant's fish tank floor didn't get us barred-"

"We didn't say something equally racist and fat shaming to the fish. We just destroyed their home." She snorts and elbows him before returning to her relaxing position, eye closing. "They might have been angry, but who knows? I'm sure their objects only lasted - oh - about as long as it took them to finally stop flopping around out of water." Humming, she purses her lips in thought and her red brows draw down. "Poor little fishes didn't even have a chance from the moment we stepped into that place."

"You mean the fish that we were about to eat?" Even if she doesn't see it, he lifts a brow plate and hears Miranda snort from where she sits with Alexia.

Chuckles pass between the three up until the point where Garrus hears a heavy sigh and tutting of vocals. "Spirits, you make it hard to sleep," Aelia says from her place out in the sun, eyes still closed and body still in an attempt to get back to her nap. "Even your children are quieter with their chattering and giggles."

Garrus' mandibles flick at the sharp tone to the woman's vocals, but knows well enough from his experience with Jane - short and infrequent as it unfortunately was - that Aelia's all vocals and irritation because of the child she's carrying. Funny how, as a child, he never once noticed his mother suffering the usual mood swings and restlessness when she was pregnant with Solana. Now, however, it seems like every interaction with a woman with child tends to involve either clipped vocals, sharp retorts, or out right raging of round, deceivingly ferocious monsters. Jane gave him his first taste, Miranda thankfully turned out to be much less fiery, and now Aelia who had a tendency to become so upset that her words jumbled into nothing but vocals and gibberish even turians had trouble understanding.

Jane gives him a knowing smirk, soon biting her lip to stifle a chuckle at most likely knowing exactly where his thoughts had just been. "Ever wish we could have more?"

"And have no home left to live in?" He shakes his head with a stunned trill and she laughs. "As much as I'd love to, let's not think about the damages."

Joking aside, he wouldn't mind another child. Maybe not another set of twins - having two at the same age is hard enough with Damocles and Cassia - but certainly a third wouldn't hurt. Too bad Elihu didn't give them very high hopes of ever conceiving again. Not without replacing the Reaper tech Mordin had to remove in order to develop the Genophage cure. Without ever needing to ask, he's damn sure Jane would never consider such a theory after all they went through trying to rid the galaxy of the giant murdering machines from dark space.

 _After everything we gave the krogan and, here we are, without the possibility of a third child of our own and a current one wearing a scar of Tuchanka's_ _ **gratitude**_.

Damocles' scar, according to Elihu, can be reduced in severity to leave a minor discoloration in his facial plates, but it would take a surgery to both repair the underlying hide and regrow plate over it. As it is, the scar is too deep into the tissue for growth to ever happen and time would never heal that, just as Garrus' own scar has no hopes of shrinking or diminishing from the state it's in now. The procedure would help, but then that left two problems.

The least problematic was the pain that their son would have to endure while he plates regrew. It would be no different from the growth spurts natural to turians where plates will shed a cracked upper layer to give way to large ones beneath, but this would be to a much greater degree. Garrus lived through his own horrendous spurts to get to his height late in his youth and he can't begin to imagine that kind of pain for Damocles, not at this age.

Second problem - and more concerning - lay in the prospect of putting their already traumatized child through something like being put to sleep against his control, only to wake up with a bandage over his face and pain in his hide and plates. Not only would it be unnecessary pain he never agreed to, but Damocles would be put through an experience that, even to Garrus, wasn't something an unknowing patient would be able to comprehend without fear. After the war, waking up in that tent in the middle of a war torn Earth city, even he suffered intense panic and the flight or fight response - and again when coming out of anesthesia on the SSV Berlin.

So the two of them decided to let Damocles - when he's old enough to understand what it'll entail - be the one to make the big decision. The worst of his injury was over in their mind. He was safe, his eye was still as good as his right, and he didn't seem to be bothering by it. Come to think of it, he was actually _happy_ to share that detail with his father, often times repeatedly asking for stories on how Garrus got it. Perhaps one day, Garrus will tell his son the truth, but, for now, the stories were always embellished, constantly changing, in a way that could best even Damocles' favorite superhero vids.

A hand on his thigh pulls him from his thoughts and he rumbles reassuringly to his concerned mate. He knows the subject is still a touchy one even after time has begun to heal the wound, but their jests seem to ease the pain. At least until he lets himself get lost.

Trying again to convince her, he smiles and leans down to press his forehead to hers. "If you really want to destroy the house I built you, we can always adopt a krogan."

Her expression eases and she returns his smile, tilting her head to nuzzle against him. "There, there. Wouldn't want to see all your hard work go up in flames."

"Joke's on you. The framework is stone, so it'd survive." _Not that I'd actually go through the hard part and rebuild all the rest._ "I think it'd be a nice, open air home then."

At the mental image, they both laugh, but it soon cuts off into chuckles on his part as he sees a small group of their men - cargo crew by the looks of their jumpsuits - and, leading the way, a seemingly cheery Harrot. Cheery, in that he's moving faster than his usual lumbering pace.

"Excitedly. You have received a special delivery." The crew sets the crate in the sand and Garrus lifts a brow, even the twins stopping their play to watch. "Proudly. I have already had it scanned for possible traps or hidden activation triggers."

"And you didn't open it?" Jane snorts and smirks. "I'm surprised, Harrot."

"Offended. Would I ever invade your privacy?"

"Yes," both Garrus and Jane say in unison, knowing full well how Harrot has a nosy streak a kilometer wide. While not really a problem considering everything ends up being for the Wraiths - personal items usually not interesting enough to grab his attention - but there was one time he managed to sneak a look at a package of lingerie Jane had purchased. After an unnecessarily long explanation for the use of them and need to not have an order in for repeated deliveries, it became a running joke Garrus wasn't entirely sure Harrot knew he was in on.

"Who's it from?" Sitting up, Jane takes the offered datapad from one of the crew before Harrot gave them a nod to return back to the compound. "Omega? _Aria?_ " She quickly looks between the crate and pad. "The fuck?"

Garrus trusts their security tech's scanning well enough to not have any worry about opening the crate, so, instead of urging his mate to hand over the datapad so he could read it for himself, he stands and crouches to see what Aria had planned. Harrot, on his part, seemed to be overly excited as his fidgeted and fluttered his mouth folds, and Garrus was sure that the elcor knew what waited for them inside. That, surprisingly, only made him more suspicious.

Flipping open the snaps, he slowly lifts the hefty lid and his eyes widen and a trill of surprise escapes his throat at the sight. That catches Jane's attention, stopping her mid-sentence, as she stands to get a better look over her shoulder.

Within the crate lay two things he never thought he'd see again, his Black Widow rifle and custom kuwashii visor. Even as they are now after the war, he knows them like he knows himself and easily sees through the grime, damage, and missing pieces to the treasures he held close throughout the worst moments of his life. How Aria found them is a question he isn't sure he wants to ask, but he won't - what's the saying - look a gift horse in the mouth?

"Holy shit." Jane's small hand reaches out as his own does the same. Where she goes for the visor, he gently pushes aside the securing foam to lift his former weapon from its resting place.

All the noise seems to have woken Aelia as she rumbles in curiosity from her place in the sun. "What is it?"

"It's my old rifle… and my visor." His talons ghost over the charred surface of his beloved weapon, a gift given by his wife so long ago. "How…?"

"It says here that she found them on the black market." Miranda's voice comes over his shoulder, but he doesn't dare look away from the sight in his hands. It's as if a part of his very body has been returned, as if he is only now complete even if he's still technically missing an arm. _How much have we been through? How many times have you helped me save what's most precious?_ "'Now we're even', it says. Then she wrote something about not 'fucking up Omega' with the Wraiths." She chuckles. "She hasn't changed."

Details don't really matter to Garrus, not right now with his Widow in his hands and mind full of repairs he has planned in order to bring her back up to top shape. "Looks like we're in need of a job, after all."

"Great. Because I can't _wait_ to have that freakish cannon covering my ass." Yet, despite her mock groan, he watches a warm smile spread over her lips. "Just like old times."


	4. EDI 5/2189

The sun hadn't even risen yet when a hulking krogan woman stormed into their house and nearly took down the room to their training room where Jane was getting lessons in 'Omega vigilante style' close quarters combat. The twins were still asleep in their rooms - a quiet VI set up by their resident techs to alert them when the little monster awoke - and the house _was_ quiet until Rym barged into the room as if her ass were on fire.

The two Vakarians are in locked in a pin, Garrus teaching Jane how to use her flexibility to press her knee into his neck and, if she had one, a blade to his stomach. Admittedly, she knows she'd never get her husband down this easily without him overpowering her, but the expectations are that this move would be _after_ a bout of dancing around her opponent long enough to tire them, make them stupid and slow. If she found herself dealing with someone ready to fight a battle of stamina and skill, then she'd have to resort to other tactics, but it never hurt to be prepared for anything. At least, that's what Garrus insisted.

"You two," Rym says gruffly, jabbing a finger through the air. "Stop play fighting and come with me. We have something to show you."

"Can it wait-"

Jane snorts and pats her mate's belly before standing up, offering a hand to him when she's on her feet. "No. It can't. Else she wouldn't have taken down our door." She glances to the woman. "You didn't take out our front, did you?"

Rym narrows her eyes and crosses her arms with a rolling sigh, pouting as only a krogan can. "I know how to be in a hurry and not tear everything down before me." Her mouth quirks as she smirks. "I'm not Grunt."

Garrus laughs and, from the stories she's heard of when Grunt visited back when the house was being built, knows there might be a good amount of truth to that statement. The thought of Grunt plowing through whatever hard work Garrus did like a clumsy child and not the commander of the krogan equivalent to the special forces sends Jane into a fit of laughter that eventually gets Rym to chime in with a soft chuckle.

"Alright, alright. You're safe for now," Jane says as she pulls off the fingerless gloves from her hands and tosses them onto a small bench at the edge of the mats on their way to the doors, Rym leading them out. "So, what's this all about?"

Rym shakes her head and turns just enough to look over her shoulder at them. "Not telling you. You won't know until you see it."

Jane makes a show of sighing loudly in disappointment, drooping shoulders included, but follows without question. It's not everyday - or early ass morning - that Rym is so enthusiastic with something. Usually, when she has this same pep to her step, so to speak, she usually unveils a new piece of tech she and Legacy have worked on for the Wraiths or, even better in Jane's mind, her people back on Tuchanka. The anger Jane and her husband have for the krogan as a species because of their little mindedness and zero ined ideas of vengeance and violence haven't completely blinded them to the fact that perhaps growth in a different direction than war can change millennia old thinking.

Maybe not possible, but it never hurt to give the benefit of the doubt to them with krogan like Wrex and Bakara as their leaders. Those two and Grunt can guide the krogan back into the galactic community, but only if their ways of thinking can convince more of the krogan people than will fall for old grudges and bloodlust. It may be centuries, but until the krogan learn, Jane and her family will have no involvement beyond their friendships.

Jane forgoes changing her shoes from the thin ones she wears to work out into something less like walking with socks only because of curiosity. She figures why waste the time if Garrus isn't even going out with shoes at all? Besides, with the amount of excitement rolling off Rym, she seriously doubts they'd be able to even if they wanted too without her just picking them up, throwing them over each shoulder, and carrying them.

_Whatever we're in for must be something good. That, or everyone is fucking with us…. Wouldn't put it past them, the assholes._

When they step out into the comfortably chilled - at least for her - pre-dawn air, she stops at the top of their front steps and lets the cool stone of the stairs sink in through the thin soles of her shoes. She looks around the beach to see some of the farming team up early and tending to the large plot of crops and the occasional drifter either taking in the sights or passing time. She doesn't really know, as the compound now has so many civilians now living with their mercenary family members, so, without their suits or armor, there was no telling who was who unless they personally worked with a Wraith - which still didn't cover even a fraction of their men's numbers.

Virmire was becoming it's own colony under the Wraths' care, hidden away from Council and Terminus. With no set governing body keeping an eye on the planet and the threat of radiation on the opposite hemisphere - and orbiting Wraith ships - keeping possible exploration teams away, the planet was theirs. They were ready to fight for it too, but with knowledge of Virmire history in mind, little chance existed that any power strong enough to take them out would have the clearance from others vying for this planet to approach. If said army did approach, it'd only result in a war among Terminus companies and the Council's own men fighting for the right to turn Virmire into a stalemate planet once again, and Jane doubted the different parties were that stupid.

Sand crunches beneath their feet and, always curious of their differences even after so many years, Jane looks at her own and her husband's differently shaped feet as they cross the span of the beach. As suspected given his larger size, his feet dwarf her own, two massive toes perhaps not as long, but definitely wider than hers. Where her shoes leave her to stomp around on practical clubs, his toes flex with each step, curling in the air and spreading just slightly when they sink into the sand.

Looking back over her shoulder, their prints trail behind side by side - small, round ovals the shape of her shoes in contrast to the larger, two-toed tracks of his bare feet. Two completely different prints belonging to two people nature never intended to find the other, but a pair of impressions in the sand that Jane can't imagine never existing. Since that day on the Presidium, he is meant for her and she him.

When she moves to right herself and pay attention to their walking as they draw close to the military complex of the compound, her eyes catch his. Smiling softly, slightly embarrassed to find herself caught with mind adrift, Jane chuckles lightly. His left mandible hangs lax in a warm smile and he leans down to nuzzle the crown of her head, purring softly and voice in symphony with the sound of gently rolling waves.

Her observations come to a close as sand gives way to concrete as they step up onto the grounds of the complex where the actually 'mercenary' side of the Wraiths happens. Here, the colony receives supplies and their men can tend to their weapons and armors, train for upcoming missions, receive missions, debrief their superiors, take shuttles or the smaller ships docked planetside to their destinations, or any other number of tasks suited more for a military force than a pack of mercs. Hell, Jane even took to training with her men and teaching - and learning - a few things.

Rym forgoes the main building of the complex and heads for the closest lift, a large cargo lift positioned so that any shipments coming in can be brought through it instead of being dragged throughout the complex to get in their men's' ways. This early, the receiving and shipping crew still sleeps, so they had the oversized lift all to themselves. While ridiculous to be in a lift the size of one of the Normandy's supply rooms, Jane can't deny they'd only have wasted time walking deep into the complex to find one more sensible. Rym already seemed tense enough without needing to bother themselves with not looking awkward in a too big and empty elevator.

Reaching the outer docks meant for the larger vessels, Jane slows a moment to look at the Normandy in her docking clamps, as if sleeping in anticipation of return to her grand adventuring through the galaxy. She'd been through hell during the war, but the Wraith engineers and mechanics rebuilt her perfectly, even improving her with prototype - or, in other words, stolen - tech. Hell, the good ship looked even better painted in the Wraith black and silver, as free in color as she was from any chains of servitude. The Normandy - like Jane, Garrus, and all of their Wraiths - were their own rule, their own superiors, and their own future.

"Been up with Legacy all night," Rym says as she stomps up the Normandy's gangplank, hands fisted at her side jerking with each step.

Jane's seen her fair share of angry and agitated krogan, and it looks just like their escort, but she knows Rym well. One didn't spend years working side by side with someone and not know their body language, as out of character with their species as a whole as it is.

It isn't a blood list got battle that fills Rym's veins, but a child-esque excitement. Why, if Jane didn't fear offended the woman, she'd compare the very way Rym seems to have a bounce in her step to the very way her twins act when they have a big surprise in the works. All Jane hopes for is that Rym, at least, isn't one to spring surprises like sand castles in the house or paint murals on the living room wall.

Jane snorts when Rym slams a krogan fist on the airlock controls, feigning a scolding tone. "Hey, don't break my ship."

"If the Normandy can't take an impatient krogan, then we need to get a new ship." Her mate chuckles and takes her hand, squeezing softly. "Should we be expecting a welcoming party?" He asks Rym as the decontamination cycle begins. "Because I'm not really dressed for a surprise party, and it isn't even my birthday."

Rolling her eyes, Jane elbows him. "It's clearly a party for me. You've already got a big enough ego that no one wants to inflate it with a party all your own."

"Oh, ouch," he lays his free hand on his chest as if he's been shot.

"You're both wrong," Rym says, back to them and chin up and ready to lead once more as soon as the doors slide open to admit them. "Your guesses are way off."

Jane hums in consideration, actually taking a moment to try and think about what could be awaiting them. Not much can happen in the ship currently being retrofitted - _more like fixing all the shit the Alliance tore up before the war along with whatever wear and tear the war put the Normandy through_ \- and half gutted of anything resembling living amenities. Unless they were being shown something about the build, no answer is coming to mind.

That is, not until Garrus lays out the only logical reason to be brought to an unfinished Normandy in the early morning hours.

"You repaired EDI." His voice is soft in stunned amazement as he stops in his tracks before the elevator doors. Looking over to Rym, he tilts his head in question. "It is, isn't it?"

She huffs and scowls at him. "Why can't you ever just let someone show you something?"

Jane's eyes widen and her jaw drops. Her head snaps to Rym at break neck speed. "You…? EDI…?" Letting go of her mate's hand as soon as the lift doors open, she charges in and spins on the other two. "Aren't you coming?! Let's go!"

Rym looks surprised by the sudden outburst, but moves at Jane's command, stepping in behind a clearly amused Garrus. The woman's reaction tells all and Jane practically bounces on her toes in anxious need to see if the news is true, if she will finally have a chance to see an old friend after they've - in essence - died. Everyone can say what they want, but to her, EDI giving up the guarantee that her code could be salvaged after the destruction of the Reaper code was no different than death.

_I've already lost so damn many. I already hear too many whispers in my dreams of the dead. I can't let them tell me to add EDI's to the masses._

Her husband wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her to his side to still her jerky movements. Purring, he leans down just enough to kiss the top of her head and speak softly to her. "Let's not get ourselves all tired out before we can even welcome EDI back."

Jane chuckles lightly and nods, leaning her head against his side. She knows he isn't one for optimism, but damn if he's not an observant bastard. He knows when to be the strength to her weakness, the will to fight to her defeatist attitude, and how to force himself to be an optimist to her pessimist. As cynical as he's grown over the years and after all the shit they've seen, he's still the one to change himself to fit the situation; the man still too good for a woman like her.

Yet, he chose her and damn it all if she'll ever let him go. No amount of years will dull her devotion or still her heart as it beats to the rhythm of his own.

The crew deck looks like a ghost town with its emptiness and stripped down mess. Nothing but the bare bones of the hull remain, the mess tables and kitchenette removed for the rebuild. Some of the panels throughout the deck from the ceiling to the floor have been peeled back to get to the tech inside and repairs or upgrades Jane would never understand even if it hit her in the face.

Stepping through the MedBay doors into a still mostly intact medical suite - the equipment too heavy and still too vital for the ship to really justify the waste of time for removal if they're just to be put back in at a later date - Jane almost plows right into a pacing Joker. She quickly catches herself before they collide and he breaks something, stepping back just as he looks up with frantic eyes.

"About time you showed up!" Joker spins on his heels and walks back to where Legacy waits patiently by the door to the AI Core. "I was fixing to just go in there and wake her up myself!"

"Easy." Rym stomps towards the doors, and the movement alone is enough to break what little control Joker has on his patience as he spins and hits the open command definitely hard enough to break something.

If he managed to damage anything, he doesn't even so much as flinch as he takes lead for EDI's console. Jane and Garrus are last to enter the room and the core starts to get really cramped, really fast thanks to the massive krogan, turian, and geth Prime. Still, even more stifling is the heavy weight of anticipation, of the questions of just how much of EDI Legacy and Rym actually managed to rebuild.

"Well? Aren't you going to do something?" Joker looks between Rym and Legacy, his eyes glistening even in the low light. Oh, how it will destroy him if the years of work and rebuilding are all for naught.

Legacy lifts his facial plating. "We will establish connection and activate the EDI code."

Thinking of code, Jane realizes that, if they cannot revive EDI, or if Legacy and Rym haven't managed to implement geth coding where the Reapers' once existed, then there was no hope in reviving the geth's own damages with help from EDI in return. The two codes refusing to combine into a fully functional and completely individual AI will only mean that Jane has effectively sent the geth and EDI - figuratively - back into the stone ages.

Jane lays a hand on Joker's shoulder when he begins to fidget, to grow closer to taking action in his impatience. He turns to glare at her, but she sees right through it, sees to the fear and hope in his eyes. Nodding, she both assures him that this will work and gives the silent okay to continue as she looks to Legacy and smiles. "Do it. Wake her up."

Legacy dips his head and goes completely still. The core room goes deathly silent as everyone seems to hold their breath. Joker wrings his hands, Rym shifts on her feet, and Jane looks to her mate with her own plea for this to go right, for them to have a victory. Garrus seems to be the only one unaffected, his expression stone and giving away nothing of his own emotions. She inwardly thanks him for his stability, for his realistic nature for even the worst case scenarios, because if this all goes tits up, she will need him to be the logical and controlled one.

After a moment that seems to drag on forever, Legacy raises his head and his mechanical iris widens and shrinks. He, however, says nothing nor gives away any sign of success or failure.

The silence breaks Joker's thread of control and patience as he tightens his fists, squares his shoulders, and charges. "You stupid geth! Where is she?! Say something, you piece of shit!"

An orb of light appears, distorted and flickering, but Jane knows what - who - it is instantly. "Hello, Jeff."

Jane's eyes water as she grins and laughs. A look to her mate shows a kind smile on his face as he looks to her with a silent reassurance that there's still hope. EDI's complete return isn't, in any way, confirmed, but her being active - _alive_ \- is a great first step.

Joker starts to cry, mouth falling open and closing for a few breaths. With a rush of air, he stumbles and leans heavily on EDI's console. "Is…? EDI…?"

"Yes, Jeff, is it me." A softness seems to fill her voice when she speaks, hologram cutting on and off. "It is good to see you again."

"Fuck… I missed you."

"EDI," Jane says as she steps forward with a need to collect a damage report before they can get their hopes up too high that they shatter into unmendable pieces they fall. "Can you tell us what you remember?"

"Many of my core memory is still in process of decrypting. I will run a diagnostic to further examine the damages." A pause. "Done." Eyes around the room glance to one another in worry. "I detect damage to my programming pertaining to physical manipulation of the Normandy. I can no longer take control of ship functions."

"Life support?" Garrus hums and crosses his arms. "Surveillance?"

"I cannot manually control life support systems, but there is a separate server within my systems that maintains a habitable atmosphere within the Normandy." Another pause as she must be checking her systems again. "I cannot maintain constant observation throughout the Normandy, but I can be accessed through manual connection to my communications nodes."

Garrus nods in understanding and Jane swallows, still unable to speak. Memories apparently packed away or not, there is still so much that can go wrong, that can _be_ wrong and they just don't know it.

"EDI?" Joker whispers, reaching out a hand to slip into the hologram and create a distortion before he pulls it back. "Do you… remember me? Remember us?"

"Of course, Jeff." Jane's sure she's imagining it, but the air seems to lighten with the warmth coming through EDI's voice. "I was sure to encode all of my memories of us, of those I care about, as priority."

He sobs and Jane lays a hand on his back in silent solidarity. Looking to EDI's makeshift image, she smiles. "Don't worry, EDI, we'll get you a body soon."

"Actually," Rym cuts in, stepping forward. "I've begun designing something similar to what she looked like before. The last bit of repairs had to be done from the inside, so while Legacy did that, I worked on building."

"How far along?" Jane asks as Joker sniffles.

"With Legacy's help it should take -"

"We predict completion of the basic forms to be within the next eleven days," Legacy answers and Joker's eyes widen.

"R...really?"

"Yes." The Prime dips his head. "Full aesthetics will take longer to complete, but functionality will be achieved to facilitate use by the EDI code."

"EDI is fine, Legacy."

"Very well," he confirms with a curt nod to EDI's request.

Jane huffs a relieved breath and looks to EDI's image. "And, when that happens, we'll be sure to show you around our new home."

"I'd like that. Thank you, Shepard."


	5. Reunion 7/2189

Today holds great promise for Garrus and his mate, as it's the first day in a long time that they will be able to see their Normandy family all together. If he thinks back, the last time they were all in the same room, so to speak, was during the shore leave party at their gifted apartment. For just that one night, the makeshift family forgot the war, the Reapers, and all the death around them in order to celebrate their lives together packed into a tiny stealth ship flying through space and battling nightmares.

The request - demand - that this reunion of sorts be just the 'adults' appealed the most to him. He loves his children, of that there is no question, but the thought of being able to share a drink with _all_ of his friends _at the same time_ meant feeling less like a father and more like a man simply enjoying the chance to see his good friends after so long. With everyone across the galaxy dealing with their own, new lives, there's so much to cover before they must part and he doesn't want the fact that impressionable children are around to keep the Normandy family from enjoying themselves.

After all, their family grew since that party on the Citadel and the end of the war. It wouldn't do to hold back for the sake of the young ones now that the Normandy had new members to add to the crew. 'As thick as thieves', Garrus once heard said and he couldn't agree more with the sentiment, even if not all of them were actual thieves.

Normally, the idea of leaving Damocles and Cassia alone - all the possible caretakers now going to attend the gathering - would bother him, but the further development of the Wraiths meant one thing, growth in numbers. With that growth, the need for someone to be able to tend to the children while parents were gone grew. That, and the idea that perhaps the complex's young should socialize and grow together, led to one asari matriarch stepping up with an offer.

At first, Denaya, a woman that had spent many of her matron years tending to young orphans on Illium, wasn't to be trusted in his mind, but he soon changed his mind. Garrus had put her through the ringer, as Jane said, with tests that would have sent many running, but Denaya stuck through it, proved herself, and lessened his suspicions.

_And if she is stupid enough to try and hurt them, then I only need to remind her with Urik's skull still hanging in the Vakarian armory._

But Denaya _had_ proven herself and, thanks to her, Garrus felt like he and Jane got part of their lives back, the parts opposite of their 'parent' personas. Plus, the twins didn't deserve to grow up alone without children of their own age.

"So let me get this straight," Denaya says as they enter the small prefab she uses as her 'daycare', as Jane calls it, a twin in Garrus' arms and the other in Jane's. "You're asking me to watch these two darlings so you can go out and party with your former crew?" Despite her attempt at motherly scolding, she wears a smirk and soon chuckles. "Oh, alright. Yali and I can watch them for the night too, if you'd like."

Yali, Denaya's youngest daughter, was a Wraith dockworker that often helped her mother watch after the massive amount of children now living within the complex. Garrus put her through the same gauntlet as her mother and, much like her mother, passed his inspection.

Jane knows his own answer and smiles at him, the two sharing a silent excitement over the chance to not have to reel themselves in by a set hour in order to tend to Damocles and Cassia. "Sounds great."

"But mommy…" Damocles quivers his mandibles in an overexaggerated plea.

Where Cassia loves the chances to meet others and make friends, their son - even at this young age - carries a nervousness around even those of his own age. She's known to be able to make friends with anyone, outgoing and easy to forgive the innocent stares and prodding questions of curious children. However, many times they've heard from Danaya that Damocles takes it all to heart, bottles up his feelings, and sometimes lashes out in frustration and hurt.

It leaves a piercing agony in Garrus' heart to know he cannot aid his son in his emotional battles. He once tried to speak with him alone - then Jane, then the two of them together - but Damocles withdraws, goes silent, and often refuses to listen without throwing a fight.

"He's scared of the pain those bastards cause," she had said.

"They are children. Surely…" Yet, his protest fails him. How can he justify something when it's his own son hurt?

"Surely nothing. Children or not, knowing or not, they are assholes." She sighed and dropped her head, arms crossing as she stares at the floor. "I just wish there was a way their parents could explain the twins without making it seem like they're freaks, but Damocles won't talk about it and Cassia just doesn't want to 'get them in trouble. Dammit."

With worry still in his mind, and answers too far from his reach to help without looking to aid of his own, Garrus purrs to his son. Leaning in, he presses his forehead to Damocles'. "Don't worry. It'll just be you and Cassia tonight."

"Promise?"

"Promise, big guy." Jane smiles and kisses his fringe. "What do you say mommy turns on some Blasto cartoons?"

He grins and nods, cheering up with chirps and trills. She sets him down and he immediately takes her hand, leading her into another room where the vid screen must be. Garrus can't help but chuckle at that, the idea of being able to lead mommy to what he wants always seems to make Damocles happy.

Garrus puts Cassia down on the ground and kneels before her. "You'll have fun tonight, won't you?" Smiling, he chuckles. "Will you promise to bring home a beautiful coloring for daddy's workshop? I have a huge blank spot on the wall."

His daughter's mandibles spread in a wide smile as she rumbles. "Uh huh! Okay, daddy!" Hugging him when he opens his arms, she chirps before looking up to Denaya. "Hi, misses Denaya," she greets with a warm smile and hands clasped at the hem of her dress. "Can I get the colors from the cubby?"

The caretaker nods with a returned smile as Garrus stands. Lifting a brow plate, he hums in question. "'Cubby'?"

Denaya laughs just as Jane returns from the vid room and Garrus starts to feel very awkward, thinking he must surely already know this. In not knowing, has he committed some parenting crime? Did the twins ever use this term before? Should he be paying better attention?

"It's short for a small compartment," the matriarch says with a slight chuckle and points to the wall where square, open front boxed line the wall in various colors and holding various child's toys. "It helps to keep everything clean if the kids take from one and have to replace that box's items before moving to another."

Garrus nods in both understanding and inward agreement of that being a damn good idea. Jane must have the same thought as she chuckles and looks up to him. He chuckles back at her amusement and nods. "Yeah, I'll make some for them, but you're helping me paint and set them up."

"Done deal." Offering a hand, they shake on it with smirks and chuckles as Denaya looks on in amusement.

"Well, you two should go before Cassia decides she wants to show you her first coloring page."

Jane snorts and he hums, knowing full well how excited their daughter gets at the prospect of having her art hung up. So much so that she often rushes whatever she's doing, only to later replace it with another because 'it's not pretty enough'. Without her parents around to constantly try to impress, Cassia can focus on a work that'll make her happy.

Taking his hand, his mate gives Denaya a wave over her shoulder as they head towards the door. Already, the sun is starting to lower in the sky and Garrus knows they have about two hours before the sun will set and the sky thrown into shades of purples and blues. Time of day won't matter anyways once they make it back to the beach, and where their crew was already building a pavilion from some prefab shipment Liara had flown in prior to her arrival.

When they arrive to the makeshift party grounds on the beach before the Wraith complex, a massive bonfire has already been lit and its light covering nearly the entire shore in an orange glow.

They certainly won't lack for warmth or illumination tonight.

Nor food by the looks of crates Grunt is currently digging through with Sephone. The two are currently arguing over what to cook first - boar or something called a shakran - but seem to come to some agreement when Zaeed approaches bringing liquor and shouting to 'shut the bloody hell up and start cooking!'

Some of the group stare out at the waves with drink in hand and Ellie, being one of them, gestures them over. Garrus nudges his forehead to Jane's and chuckles. "Go see what they want and I'll get drinks."

"Rum and coke. What are you going to get?"

"Heat sink."

She laughs and lets his hand go, turning to walk back towards the group while still addressing him. "Looking to get shitfaced tonight?"

Garrus' mouth opens to answer just as he hears the sand crunching and feels a heavy weight on his shoulders. "Nah," James Vega says, smelling already of that stuff he calls 'cerveza'. "Scars here just wants to feel like a man and not a dad, right?"

Garrus merely hums at James' grin while Jane laughs again, finally moving towards the group of Ellie, Miranda, Kasumi, Tali, and Aelia - who is surprising to see considering she's still so drained after giving birth shortly after EDI's activation. He can't hear what they say that makes his wife laugh and look back thanks to Vega pulling him towards the pavilion, but he has his hands full when James starts to call out to the small collection of people around the temporary bar made from a large plastic table and seemingly every bottle of liquor in the universe.

James cups a hand to his mouth and yells across the covered area towards the 'bar'. "Hey! Whip Scars, here, a heat sink!"

"Aye, aye!" Traynor calls back with a bottle of something blue in her hand and grins. By the look of her sway, she's already a good way into her own drinks. "Coming right up!"

"You didn't even order-"

"Oh, right! And a rum and coke for Lola!"

"Jane's," Garrus says dryly, looking to Vega before shrugging off his heavy arm with a smirk. "And I'll be sure to tell her you forgot about her until I had to remind you."

James blows a breath between his lips before snorting. "Yeah, like she'd believe you over innocent me."

At that, Garrus laughs as they come up to the group of guests either waiting for their drinks or watching the 'master at work'. Drunk or not, Samantha makes a hell of a strong drink.

"Hello, Garrus." EDI, in a platform still needing cosmetic improvements to look as she once was, smiles and hands Bray - visiting from Omega for a short time - his green colored, grass scented drink. Apparently, she has been taking to learning from Traynor how to mix drinks. Probably for the best considering how large this party is and how many drinks will be handed around before the night's over. "How are you?"

"I'm good, EDI. Where's Joker?"

"Jeff is over there," she says as she points towards where the party has set up a grouping of loungers, foldable chairs, and another large table in preparation for their dinner. Joker sits - no, _lays_ \- in one of the large loungers with his eyes shut and a drink in hand while Lantar, Wrex, and Rym work around him to finish preparing the spot for their feast. "He said he wanted to 'enjoy it while he can'."

Garrus chuckles and shakes his head. "Of course. More like he wanted to claim the best seat in the house."

"Ha!" Jack downs her drink and thumps the glass on the table in sign for more. "I'll get his crippled ass out of that chair."

"Do that, and you'll be helping me patch him up." Chakwas gives Jack a stern glare, but, since her retirement, the scolding seems to not have as big an effect.

Jack laughs and holds up her refilled drink in cheers before smirking. "Alright, alright. Wouldn't want to have to hear him bitch at me when I cast him up. You win."

Garrus rumbles a thank you when Traynor hands him his and Jane's drinks and lifts his glass in a parting toast to the group, a passing Ash grinning and clinking her glass to his when he turns to leave.

"Tell Skipper she isn't getting out of the Williams Family tradition toast so easily, but I'll let her drink that one before I find her." Leaning against the table, she smirks as Garrus walks backwards a few steps, chuckling.

"I'll be sure to remember that," he deadpans, knowing full well the gun oil Ash makes them all drink in some kind of torturous toast. Meeting up with Jane on the way to her group, he hands over her glass and hums. "Do I want to know what's so funny?"

"Probably not." She chuckles and reaches behind him to pull off a small paper. "But you probably don't want to see Kasumi for the rest of the night." He reaches for the paper, but she quickly crumbles it up and shoves it into her pocket. "Nope, that's not for your eyes."

"Let me guess, she put something on me to make a fool of myself?"

"Pretty much." Hearing his huff, she snorts. "Don't be a party pooper, she may be slightly tipsy and wanting to pick on grumpy ol' you."

"I'm not grumpy, I just don't smile."

She laughs at his joke before smiling up to him, warmth in her eyes. Looking over the beach, she smiles and motions three drell and one quarian standing at the edge of the sea. "Hey, I hear Tali's adopted some little shits. What do you say we test that rumor?" Grinning mischievously, she grabs his hand and runs as best she can in the sand, dragging him behind her. "Tali!" Letting him go, Jane wraps her arms around a happy, quarian rushing to meet her up the beach in a rough hug. "It's been a long time!" Stepping back, she holds Tali's arms and smirks. "I hear you have kids of your own."

"Keelah, you make me sound old," Tali says as she waves the rumor off. Chuckling, her eyes narrow in a smile. "But, I guess you're right. Kal and I adopted some of the children orphaned by the war." Her mate, the drell Garrus still refers to as Ilden - his false name - stands up beside her and smiles as he wraps his arm around her waist.

"It's certainly a unique experience to care for them, and I wouldn't have ever thought I could." He looks to Tali and she looks back, both smiling. "But they needed a family and I might have made a big enough home to give them that."

Tali chuckles and nods. "Keelah, the house is _huge_. So much bigger than yours, Garrus," she teases, just like old times on the Normandy.

He shrugs with a chuckle. "Not as pretty as mine, though. Or with as good a view." She squawks and crosses her arms in a pout as Jane snorts. "It's truth, Tali."

"Bosh'tet."

Rolling her eyes obvious enough to make her head follow the movement, Jane then sips her drink and looks to the two other drell approaching from the shore. "Poe, Kolyat." She smiles and moves her arm holding the drink aside as Poe hugs her. "It's been a while. Still working?"

Poe grins, her red eyes squinting with her joy, and Kolyat nods. "Yeah, actually. I'm working with the C-Sec team moving into the Citadel to start cataloguing damages. After everything with that Reaper, we're being a lot more careful, scanning before we go in."

"Good," Garrus agrees with a rumble. "No more should have to pay for the Council's stupidity to keep quiet."

"They aren't all too quiet. After the information was released, that is." Poe doesn't come out and say it, but Garrus knows exactly what she means, that Liara had done the great work of spreading the reports and armor recordings from their nightmare aboard the Citadel.

"Enough about your primitive means of governing," Javik says as he approaches with a yellow, glittering drink and slightly drunk. "In my time, we didn't hide the truth about the Reapers. We-"

"Ah, yes." Jane, even with drink in her hand, curls her index fingers as she speaks. "We 'primitives' can learn lots from your people." She chuckles and sips her drink. "Like how to brush our teeth with biotics."

"That… I should have never told you, human."

The others laugh at his confused and drunken state. Garrus, for all he knows the man, was happy to hear of his return from traveling the galaxy to honor his dead comrades. At first, they had all feared Javik wouldn't return, but something about his strange love and hate relationship with Liara seemed to be his draw back to the land of the living.

Looking out across the group of Normandy's family, Garrus catches sight of someone he hadn't thought would ever be seen around anyone carrying the Normandy flag, Kaidan Alenko. His rumble in curiosity pulls Jane's attention, but he shakes his head and lays a hand on her shoulder. "Want me to talk to him?"

"And have you punch him or, hell, _shoot_ him? No thanks, I'd like this little party to be full of drinks, not blood." Chuckling, she pats his chest and makes her way towards where the biotic speaks with Steve and the engineering couple, Gabby and Kenneth.

"Maybe you should talk to them?" Tali's voice draws him back to the group around him and Garrus lifts a brow, about to ask for further explanation. Seeing his confusion, she motions Arcanus and Legacy standing aside. "Bosh'tets don't know how to relax. At least Legacy has an excuse."

EDI's recovery has done wonders for the geth regaining their own full fledged AI capabilities again, but, together, there still exists some hurdles to overcome in converting what makes EDI who she is and what makes a geth different. Legacy and EDI both estimate at least a few more months before she can repair herself enough to be completely on top of the implementation of her code into him, but Garrus gives them both credit for not giving up on the hope even with it looking so grim.

_Here I am saying they have hope when, I'm sure, they'd deny even being able to experience it. What irony it is for two AI's to claim they don't understand nor have the ability to feel the very thing they express by never quitting their attempts when all hope seems lost._

Arcanus gives a nod in greeting as Garrus approaches and, noticing the change in the man, Legacy turns, his facial flaps lifting and fluttering down into position. "Wraith Vakarian."

Garrus chuckles at the newly developed title for himself and Jane since they aren't, technically, Spectres anymore. "I see you two aren't enjoying the party."

"Nonsense," Arcanus says with a slight shake of his head as he gazes out at the setting sun. "Simply wish to speak of a possible cooperation with the geth working within the Terminus."

"So, work." Garrus hums and motions towards the gathering of the Normandy's crew - old and new. "I'm sure food is going to be served soon, so I'd stock up on drinks before you get a taste of whatever Grunt, Sephone, and Zaeed are cooking."

"We do not need sustenance, but we would enjoy the opportunity to further observe."

"It's better when you don't tell people you're going to watch them eat." Clicking his mandibles at the thought of a geth staring him down while he's trying to eat, Garrus chuckles and looks to Arcanus. "What do you say we empty out whatever stash Traynor has of turian brandy?"

"I am afraid to warn you that I have already asked. She does not possess any." Arcanus' mandible flicks in disappointment, but Garrus rumbles in amusement at the man not having his chosen drink.

"Well, then it's heatsinks for you." Putting his glass in the older turian's hand, he starts to walk back towards the groups of people. "Come on. You wouldn't want me to tell Jane you'd rather she come over her and drag you into being sociable? Or…" He smirks and chuckles. "I could always get Ellie."

Sighing, a gesture Garrus only knows from the way Arcanus' robed chest heaves slightly, the other turian nods and moves to follow. He takes a small taste of the drink in his hand and grunts, clearing his throat. "This is…"

"Great?" Though Garrus knows better.

"Disgusting."

"All the more reason to down it fast and order more." He snorts at the dubious look he gets and nods. "Used to drink these when I was still in the military. Figured it's been too long since I just let loose, as humans say."

"Indeed." Still, Arcanus merely looks at the drink in hand before handing it back. "I would rather not 'let loose'."

"Well," Garrus says with a shrug and downs his drink in one go, shaking his head at the sting. "I guess someone has to be the designated adult to reign us all in when the sun comes up."

Wrex lumbering into the middle of the bonfire's light draws his attention just before the man bellows. "Everyone! Hurry your asses up! Food's almost ready and Liara wants a photo before you're all too shitfaced!"

Garrus snorts, but still smiles at the thought of having a new picture to compare to the one during the war. Maybe, just maybe, they all could make this some kind of tradition.


	6. Fleet and Navy 8/2189

'Movie Night' has two meanings in the Vakarian household. The first typically involves the twins, a kid friendly vid with the majority of the script sung by the vividly colored characters, and lots of popcorn, sugary snacks, and anything else parenting books - which they threw out after the first few chapters - say not to feed their children. Sometimes, others join with their own families - even over comms in attempt to make it a group viewing, as Tali often did with the little terrors that seemed to flock around her on Rannoch.

The second version of movie night, and the one Jane and Garrus have been preparing for all night, involves just the two of the two of them. There were occasions where other adults would join in on watching the more interesting - and violent or raunchy - movies, but not tonight. Tonight, they gather up a bottle of sweet wine - her favorite because, dammit, the other shit is just too bitter - and leave the snacks in lieu of cuddling up together without worry of crumbs or incessant shifting to reach for more. They even remove clothes to nothing but a robe on her and loose pants for himself, enjoying the chance to relax with a freedom they can't when the twins are awake.

With the twins already asleep up in their rooms, Garrus claims the remote and corner of the two couch sections so that he can lay his legs across the leather surface of one section while she takes the other. Lounging across the free space, Jane's head fits perfectly at the crook of his shoulder and keel as she curls under a plush blanket against the chill that's never quite left since Alchera. Like this, she can trap his heat and enjoy the way his thumb absently draws circles on her own shoulder as he wraps his arm around her to hold her close.

"What's on the docket tonight?" She swirls her wine gently before smelling its sweet, slightly spicy fragrance. They usually switch up decision making for the movies, at least on their private showings, but, by that playful hum in his chest, she is starting to regret it being his night. "Oh god, what did you pick?"

He chuckles when she shifts to look up at him, smiling warmly. "Come on, now. It can't possibly be _that_ bad."

"Please tell me you haven't found some crazy elcor rendition of a classic movie again." She still remembers the time he found a version of an elcor Titanic where the main human actors were replaced by monotone, droning mammoths that made absolutely no sense to be floating on the ship's debris. She's pretty sure he did it in jest, but it was literal torture for the both of them, so she hoped he had learned his lesson.

No such luck, apparently.

When he shakes his head, she's forced to hold back her sigh of relief at his smile never falling. "Jesus… what could be worse than that?"

"Oh, I don't know." He clicks the remote and a giant title screen of a slightly familiar shaped ship flying from the foreground and out towards a Citadel nestled in the interstellar cloud of the Widow System.

Before she can question just what kind of movie starts with a ship that looks like - _God, no_ \- the Normandy SR1 if she squinted hard enough, the movie's title of 'Fleet and Navy' fills the screen. She groans, knowing full well what the hell this movie is about, and he chuckles, kissing the top of her head.

"Thought you might like it."

"I hate you," she says flatly as a narration detailing some bullshit history for her of inhuman feats of daring and prowess.

He purrs and slide his hand up to cup her cheek and lift her head into a soft kiss. "No. You love me."

She snorts at his smirk and kisses his chin before turning back to listen. "Wow, never knew I killed those Threshers on Akuze." She'd be horrified to be reminded of that horrible tragedy in her life if not for the outrageous acts they claimed she and her team, who apparently sacrificed their lives for her because 'they knew she was meant for greatness' - _gag…_ \- performed to take down the Maws. "I mean, seriously? You can't take down a Maw by crashing a small agriculture shuttle into it! Do they even _research_ these things?"

"I think I remember you almost ramming one with a Mako."

"That was on accident-" She stops to hear the introduction of the Normandy, groaning at the introduction to the woman that's supposed to be her as she walks into the cockpit just as, apparently, the overly handsome Kaidan mentions her name. "Jesus. She could never hold a gun. I have a better chance singing the Illuminated Anthem! And that's just lighting up!"

He hums and she feels him shrug against her back. "Looks can be deceiving. After all, wasn't it you who thought you wouldn't be efficient on the battlefield with the changes Miranda did to your body. Changes I _like_ , by the way." Growling, he shifts he hand around her to glide talon tips over the side of her robed breast.

Jane chuckles and sips her drink. "Alright, fine. I was able to do it but-" She stops when there's a blatant flirting between her character and Kaidan's, smirking in her own amusement at Garrus' growl. "What? Jealous?"

Garrus clears his throat. "No. Just… It's weird."

"Uh huh…"

* * *

"I can't believe how by the book they made me." He huffs and offers to pour her another glass.

She looks away from the ridiculous story playing out on the screen to give a nod and hold her glass out to him. "And joining me because the Executor wanted you to keep an eye on me because I'm human? Nothing about hunting Saren." Chuckling at his frustrated look, she sips her drink. "And to think that that's all it would have taken for you to join me."

" _You play loose, Commander Shepard."_ Garrus' actor who, according to Garrus, is known for being an all around lady killer in his off-screen life, growls down at Jane's actress. " _I'm here to make sure you don't put the Spectre name to shame."_

" _And why's that,_ _ **turian**_ _? Because you can't live with the fact that a human could make it into the Spectres? I've proven myself."_

"Wow, this me is a bitch." Jane chuckles as Garrus hums in agreement.

" _Mark my words, Shepard. You will not ruin my chance to finally make Saren pay for his crimes. He will be coming with me into C-Sec to answer for his crimes, the_ _ **proper**_ _way."_ The actor puffs up his chest and lifts his chin in defiance. " _You will follow proper protocol or you will be no different than him."_

Both Vakarians laugh, thankful the rooms upstairs are insulated against noise. "Oh, fuck. They got you so wrong."

"I don't… Since when did I become my father?"

* * *

The Fleet and Navy crew move on to Noveria, which isn't too surprising given that the filmmakers could probably get anything out of that planet's Executive Board for the right price. Thankfully, though, whoever manages the intelligence over there decided not to sell the fact that there were fucking rachni out at Peak 15.

_That'd have been the shits._

Instead, the plot here involves Matriarch Benezia using her geth minions to make massive colossi and other geth hybrids that, normally, were made by the heretics themselves long before the need for organics. Naturally, and quite annoyingly, this movie developed a misbelief that the geth are completely unable to advance without Benezia's interference. It doesn't bode well for actual, out of the land of vids, interactions with geth among the denizens of the galaxy, but hopefully everyone will see this ridiculousness as just that.

" _My daugh-ter, sweet daught-er,"_ Matriarch Benezia begins to sing and both Jane and Garrus groan loudly before taking a drink, making a game out of drinking every time the cast bursts into melody. " _For I, must go…"_

The Liara actress - _way_ too… endowed to be anything like the original - cries as she sings as she cradles her 'mother'. " _My mo-ther, sweet mo-ther… P-lease…"_ She lifts her face to the sky. " _Do not go, into that peace, peaceful light…"_

"God… this is horr-i-ble," Jane sings on her own, staring down at her empty glass. "We need more wi-ine."

Garrus chuckles and shifts to pause the movie. "I'll be right back. Don't start it without me."

* * *

As the movie reaches its very climax in the guise of a scene on a river and woodland covered planet, clearly thrown in to close the gaps where files became classified, it becomes very obvious how the director wanted to 'solve' the apparent sexual tension between the straight arrowed cop and Spectre bad girl already with a pretty boy lieutenant. Said climax involved Saren, who had been on this planet doing… god knows what because Jane is a bit too tipsy to be paying attention, before setting a bomb to blow up the Normandy crew.

Attempting to disarm the bomb to buy the crew more time, the Garrus valiantly runs back into the underground facility, but the Shepard stops him. " _No! I can't let you go! It's too dangerous"_

The Garrus returns to her and smiles, cupping her cheek as his vocals shift.

"Here it comes!" The real Garrus cheers in his vocals with slurred chirps and Jane lifts her glass for him to clink his own against it before they each take a drink at the building song.

" _I do this for you… For you, I will be true..."_ The actress begins to sob and Jane snorts, sipping from her drink.

"I wonder what you'd sound like singing," she wonders aloud, the drink making her talk aloud way too much.

"Horrible," her husband deadpans before lifting her head up with a nudge on her chin and clumsily kissing her. "But I'd do it if you asked."

Chuckling, she gently taps his nose. "Sweet talker. Keep that up and I just might."

" _Come with me, live with me… I can make you happy…"_

" _I can dry your tears…"_

Singing together, the couple on screen lean close and kiss. Time seems to slow as the camera spins on the heroes and Jane hears her mate hum.

"Isn't there a bomb about to go off?"

As if hearing him through the vidscreen, the two actors run towards the ship, hand in hand. Why the hell they didn't just do that before wasting time - time which the _just_ had enough of to escape the blast - Jane has no idea. Plot, of course. How could she forget that?

"Could you imagine if that's how we did it?" Jane chuckles and leans forward, taking a second to let the room settle before pouring each of them another glass of the - what - third bottle? She can't count at the moment and doesn't quite remember. "Poor Kaidan would be heartbroken." Garrus laughs and shrugs, taking a moment for his own head to stop spinning most like by how he goes still. "Careful… wouldn't want to pick up a mess."

* * *

The final battle was… interesting, to say the least.

It first entailed the Normandy flying in to rescue the Destiny Ascension with a blast that supposedly had the power of a Thanix without the actual tech being around at the time. It blows a hole in Sovereign that only seems to 'piss it off', according to Joker's actor. Sovereign then chases the Normandy as it speeds towards the Citadel to drop off Commander Shepard and crew to open the arms because, for some plothole reason, they were on an Ilos that didn't have a Conduit.

_Perhaps so they could throw in an unrealistic cross-species love scene where my fake self could orgasm from a simple lick to her collar bone._

Jumping from the Normandy as it took the dangerous second to hover beside the Council Chambers, Shepard and her team break through the large panoramic windows at the ready for Saren. Saren, the poor guy, didn't deserve the portrayal they gave him - withered and hunched over a can as he lets his geth fight for him - but he fell at Shepard's hand all the same when she made a superhuman jump onto his hovering platform.

She throws a punch as he staves her off with a blade in his cane, as if one could defend themselves with fists and feet in a sword fight, and battles with him until she finds a overplayed opening in his defenses. High above the Chamber floors, Shepard charges Saren and sends them both tumbling towards the ground, still fighting in slowed filming, too. Slow enough, in fact, for her crew to yell for her safety and, in the Garrus' case, reach out in attempt to catch her.

The real Jane and Garrus are far beyond picking apart the movie, their remarks too slow to pass from brain to mouth to be relevant to the ever continuing scenes. Instead, they watch as, in a flourish of lights and explosions, Sovereign is destroyed by a fleet that comes from an opening in the Citadel - again, not exactly explained as to who opened the damn arms.

_But who cares, right? This is a movie!_

They at least get the debris flying all over the Citadel right. Hell, even by a guess, they manage to have the pieces fly into the Chambers and bombard Normandy crew below.

"I remember that," her husband says in the silence, kissing the top of her head as he holds her close. "Little compared to the other messes we've gotten into, but the worst I've felt to that point."

She smiles and shrugs, looking up to him with half lidded eyes. "It was just a scratch."

He chuckles as the screen turns to black just as the rescue team manage to find the trapped survivors. Somehow, on screen Garrus made it to Shepard, as they are found curled together and smiling in victory at each other like idiots.

* * *

The movie draws to a close with the lovely interspecies couple standing atop a Presidium balcony, arms wrapped around each other and music building into a tempo.

"Drink," Jane says, draining her glass and just leaning over to set it on the floor, not bothering to put it on the table.

" _For-ever, we will be… For-ever-"_

"You think we could learn these songs and sing them wherever we go?"

Garrus hums before chuckling, his voice thicker with his vocals when he's got alcohol in his system. "No one would recognize us as the couple this movie is actually about. We'd be fans to them."

She shrugs. "I have no problem with that." Hearing the music building to a big finale, she leans forward, turns to her mate, and holds out a hand to him as she covers her heart. "For-ever we will be." Drawing out the last note, she closes her eyes.

When she opens, she sees him smirking, a plan clearly forming behind those crystal blue eyes. She lifts a brow and questions. "What's that look for?"

Humming, he leans forward. "You know, _Commander_ , I believe I caught you doing some very _suspicious_ behavior that would put the Spectre name in danger."

She chuckles and crosses her arms. "That so-!" She yelps as he grabs her and stands, carrying her to the bedroom just beside the living area. "Oh, you're in for it. Just you wait, C-Sec."

"Promises, promises."


	7. School 11/2189

Cassia’s mommy and daddy seem more upset than usual and she can’t understand why.  They should, she thinks, be happy that she and her brother, Damocles, will be able to go to an actual school where they can actually learn alongside the friends they made in Miss Denaya’s daycare.  She could barely wait to see what Miss EDI had to teach them and even hoped she could become as smart as her daddy so she could one day join him as he worked on the tech around the house.

So why does her father have a look of concern on their faces as he frantically paces the entryway of their home as they wait for their mother to prepare a lunch Cassia and Damocles can take to school?  Shouldn’t he be happy to see the twins off to a day of learning and being on their way to being big kids?

“I’m almost done!” Her mommy calls from the kitchen, the clinks of hers and her brother’s lunchboxes coming from where their mom is packing what Cassia knows will be the greatest lunches.  Better than the other kids’, even.

_ I really wish she packs a bag of Blasto Crunch chips.  The cheesy ones.  They’re the bestest. _

Her dad stops with a hum and flares his mandibles once before his eyes dart from Cassia, to her twin, and back to the door as he continues his short back and forth.  “No rush, Jane.”  Pausing, he stops again and runs a hand over his fringe.  “Dammit, I’m not ready for this,” he whispers, as if Cassia and her brother can’t hear.

But they do hear him, and giggle amongst themselves at their daddy slipping a bad word even when he always sighs and flicks his mandibles when mommy does it.  He looks over to them and smiles with a warm purr, and Cassia easily returns the gesture with a wide, excited grin of her own.  

She likes making and seeing her parents happy; she sees sadness too much even when they like to pretend otherwise.

Seemingly as upset as her dad, Cassia’s mommy comes from the kitchen with a a bit of a rush to her steps.  She gives a smile that’s both joyous and, strangely enough to Cassia, worried.  Perhaps she and daddy are concerned about the same thing, and the young child wonders how she could make sure they know that she and Damocles will be perfectly okay at school.  And not just okay, but having fun, Cassia knows without a doubt.

“Well,” her mother says with a deep breath that she lets out slowly, “Now or never, right?”  She makes a funny sound with her lips that only she can make and Cassia smiles, wiggling in impatience.  “Fuck…  Can’t we just teach them at home?  I mean, you can teach them about tech, we can both teach how to shoot a gun, and you can spar with them.  That’s enough.”

The two children snicker at their mom’s typical bad words as the two grown ups talk what seems like a completely crazy idea of not going to school.  Why wouldn’t they want Cassia and Damocles to be with their friends?  And even learn?

_ Mommy and daddy are really strange sometimes. _

“We can’t.”  Her dad shakes his head and lays his hand on her brother’s head.  “This will be good for them…. Right?”

“You don’t sound convinced.”  Her mommy sighs again before looking down at Cassia, giving her one of those smiles that always makes her warm inside and smiling back.  “You ready, my princess?”

“Uh huh!”  Cassia nods rapidly and looks to her brother to see his same answer, but frowns a bit to see his ever present shyness.

She’s always wondered why Damocles seems so upset around the other kids.  They always ask questions, and Cassia and her brother always answer, but sometimes Damocles seems more sad about being different.  Cassia likes it, knows she’s special just like her mommy and daddy say, but she knows that her brother doesn’t feel the same.  Of course she feels bad when they will stare or call them names, but she can forgive. But her brother is different.  He stays by himself most of the time. 

Cassia thinks he wouldn’t have any friends if she didn’t always choose to play with him above any of the other kids, and it hurts to think that.  She loves him like no other because only her twin could understand, and she wishes he could be happy like she is.

“Come on, you two.  EDI would kill us if you were late on your first day.”  Mommy offers Cassia her hand and the little child takes it quickly, chirping in delight at the soft squeeze her mother gives.

Cassia hops with each step, fighting not to run and drag her mom, and Damocles rumbles in nervousness as he walks hand in hand with their dad.  She can hear their daddy purring soothingly to her brother, but looks back to comfort him too.  

“Don’t be scared, Damo.”  She chirps and grins, but her mandibles draw in at his angry look.

“I’m not scared, stupid!”

“Damocles,” their daddy says sternly, rumbling in his chest as he looks down.  “It’s not nice to get mad at your sister and call her names.”

“But she called me scared!”

Her voice raises as she looks between her dad and mom, afraid of getting in trouble for name calling first.  “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Easy, easy.”  Their mommy turns to walk backwards in a silly way as she smiles in that warm way.  “We understand you both didn’t mean it.  We’re all a bit anxious for today.  It’s a big thing for everyone.”

Damocles still gives Cassia a mad look, but daddy tugs his arm softly.  “She didn’t mean to say you’re scared, just anxious.  Like mommy said.”

“What’s ‘ang-shush’ mean?”  Damocles draws out the word, trying to repeat it like their dad, before he looks up to their tall daddy.  Cassia looks to him as well, not knowing the word herself.

“It means…,” their father says before humming like he does when he’s thinking, “unsure.  You’re unsure about today, about school, and that’s okay.”  He smiles first to Damocles before herself. 

“Do you get angshush too, daddy?” Cassia asks, looking from him to her mommy so that she too knows the question is being asked of her too.

Their father chuckles, his voice that deep sound that often helps to soothe Cassia to sleep.  “Of course.  I always do.”  

Mommy smiles and nods down to Cassia.  “In fact, both of us are anxious right now.”

“Why?”

“We want you guys to have fun, but we’ll also miss you so very much.”

“But we’re coming back.”

“Yeah,” her brother agrees, chirping.  “And we go away all the time to Miss Denaya’s.”

“That’s a bit different,” Daddy says with a warming rumble.  “We could always come get you then when we were missing you.  EDI won’t really let you go now.”  He chuckles.  “No matter how much we beg or hang around her school.”

Mom laughs and nods as they walk across the sand and towards a somewhat big building.  It’s only one floor high, but it’s long.  Its size makes Cassia think that there will be lots of other kids, big and small like at Miss Denaya’s.

She can’t wait to meet everybody.

Miss EDI awaits them, a smile on her face and her hands behind her back.  She tilts her head a bit when she sees them before stepping down the few steps from the front of the school and down onto the sand.  

Miss EDI, Cassia has always thought, looks so pretty when the sun shines off her silvery body.  She tends to cover it most times with clothes even though she’s a robot, though, and she’s done so today with a fancy shirt and pants.  Mommy says it’s because EDI both likes to feel and look more human, and that it seems ‘more appropriate for a setting with a bunch of children’, but Cassia isn’t quite sure what that means.  A robot is a robot, so it’s not like Miss EDI is walking around naked, or else mommy and daddy would want her and Damocles to cover their eyes.

“Hello, Damocles and Cassia.”  Miss EDI smiles and looks to their mommy when she hands over their lunch boxes - a Blasto and asari maiden, Glamora, for Cassia and a Blasto one with Blasto swimming through what daddy calls the ‘Presidium’ lake.  “I’ll make sure these are put away for later.  I have found data on the extranet of created ‘cubby holes’ for the children to store their personal items.”

“Eh, okay?”  Their mom shrugs.  “Really, whatever works.”  She looks down to Damocles, then Cassia before turning to face them.  She crouches, smiles, and takes each of their hands.  “You two little shits be good, okay?  And maybe after we can, I don’t know, watch a marathon of Blasto or something.”

Both of the twins gasp and their vocals go high in excitement as they squeal a “Really?!” in unison.

She chuckles and nods, standing up only to be replaced by daddy as he crouches down.  He reaches for the cool computer over his eye and pulls it off.  “So, you guys remember how you always want to play with my visor?”  They both nod, neither speaking and Cassia completely confused why he’d ask that.  “Well, how about you take this with you?  Like a show and tell, but see here?”  Pointing to the inside of the visor, he shows Cassia, then Damocles, a tiny red light.  “Make sure this is on, okay?”

As he goes to hand it over, Miss EDI leans over and plucks it from his hands.  “Garrus, I assure you that you won’t need to record my teaching sessions.”  She smiles before pressing the inside of the visor with her finger and hands it back to their pouting dad.  “I will make sure they are alright.  You don’t need to worry so much.”

“Cunning bastard,” their mommy whispers to their daddy and he chuckles, nodding.  “Too bad she’s got your number.”

Cassia doesn’t understand what that means, but daddy seems to and chuckles, leaning over to kiss mommy on the cheek.  Cassia smiles at their happiness after they seemed so angshush earlier, but Damocles says a near silent 'yuck’.

Daddy hears, though, as he rumbles and smiles down to them.  “Yuck, huh?”  He kneels down and opens his arms for a hug that Cassia and her brother jump into, wrapping their arms around him.  “You'll really have fun today.  Despite how we look, mommy and I are so proud of you both.  Don't worry about us.”

“Okay, daddy,” she says with a purr and presses a kiss to his cheek before releasing him.  “Love you.”

“I love you too, princess.”  His smile makes her warm and fuzzy inside as he butts his head to hers before looking to Damocles.  

Without needing to be asked, her brother presses his forehead to their dad’s.  Even though he wants to pretend he doesn't, Damocles purrs and flares his mandibles in a smile at the touch.

“Alright.  My turn!”  Mommy playing silly makes Cassia grins and chirp in laugh and she immediately jumps into her mother's arms for a big hug.  “You be good, my little monsters.”

Cassia nods a lot before mommy presses her lips to her plated cheek in a human styled kiss.  The little girl grins and purrs, returning the kiss on the cheek.  Stepping away from her for Damocles to say goodbye, Cassia skips over towards Miss EDI where she waits in front of the school house.

Damocles likes to pretend he doesn't like the attention and rubs their mom's kiss off his cheek.  Cassia knows better, though, as she trills and bounces on her feet when she sees her brother hug their mother.  Even if he tries to act tough and not kiss her, he does, and mommy smiles that warming smile as she kisses Damocles’ forehead, which he doesn't wipe off this time.

With Damocles now beside Miss EDI and Cassia, ready for their first day, Cassia gives their angshush parents one last wave before hopping up the stairs and into Miss EDI’s school house.  Inside is big, bright, and full of pictures and drawings of all sorts of things she can’t wait to learn how to read and understand.  They enter into a large room full of other kids, many bigger than Cassia and her brother and some she recognizes from Miss Denaya’s.  Connected to this big room are three equally, if not bigger, ones with more vid screens of pictures that must be lessons, each room looking harder to understand than the last.  In these rooms, too, are desks for students, one room with small enough chairs for Cassia and the others big enough for the older kids.

She and her brother slow their following of Miss EDI until they come to a stop just before the group of other children.  Cassia can tell Damocles feels more scared -  _ no, not scared.  Angshush _ \- than at Miss Denaya’s because of all the looks from the older kids, but Cassia stands as his protector, puffing up her chest and taking his hand.  That seems to help him feel strong, too, as he rumbles and lifts his head high like the superheroes in the vids.  Hand in hand, the two siblings join the others just as EDI stops before a large window showing the pretty ocean and bright blue sky.  

“Hello, students,” Miss EDI says with a smile as she hides her hands behind her back and looks over all of the kids.  “I am very proud to announce that today will be our first day together of learning.”  One of the other kids Cassia remembers from Miss Denaya’s day care raises his hand as they were all told to do when they want to speak.  Miss EDI smiles and nods.  “Yes, Phillip?”

“How come the babies aren’t here, like my little sister?”

Cassia, too, wonders that and why Miss Denaya isn’t here to see their exciting first day, but she starts to understand that baby kids are too little to start to learn like the big kids like herself and the even older ones.  It wouldn’t make any sense for Miss Denaya to be here, either, if there were still children that needed to be looked after, so that must be why she isn’t here.

Miss EDI says just what Cassia is thinking when she looks over the whole class and nods.  “Those younger children are not yet at the age of the beginning lessons.  When they are ready, they will join the youngest group of students.”

An older student, an asari, snorts and crosses her arms as she asks, her voice sounding like she’s holding her nose.  “Are we all going to learn baby lessons?  ‘Cause I don’t want to waste time reading baby books and learning the alphabet.”

Some of the older kids nod and talk all together so that actual words aren’t really made out, but Miss EDI raises a hand to make them quiet.  “No, you will not be attending the younger students’ lessons.”  She motions towards the other rooms.  “There will be three age groups - beginner, intermediate, and advanced - all divided among these three rooms.  Each will learn the appropriate material as designated by your age group.”

“How are you gonna teach us all at the same time?”  An older, but not as old as the bigger kids, turian girl hops a bit with a raised hand as she talks.  “Is there other teachers?”

Miss EDI simply smiles before her voice comes from speakers in the room.  “No, Liana, I am the sole instructor.”  The sounds scare some of the younger kids the same age, or close to, as Cassia, but she, her brother, and the older kids aren’t as shocked.  After all, Miss EDI is her mommy and daddy’s friend and she lives in a computer both here on Virmire and in the Normandy, so she can talk through radios when she wants.  “I will physically divide my attentions between the three rooms, but, in my absence, I can communicate with all of you through my interfaces located throughout the facility.  If I am needed immediately, I will only be a few steps away.”

She stops and looks between the group of kids and the first room, pointing to it.  “This shall be the beginning stage classroom.  Cassia, Damocles, Phillip, Jewl, Intona, and Leon.  I would like you to be in here.”  She hides her hands behind her back and smiles.  “I except a few others to join within the next few days, so do not worry about those of your friends you do not see.”  Swinging her hand towards the room, flat and palm up, she says, “Will you six please take a seat?  I will begin to detail our intended studies while I divide the rest of the students.  Once done, I will come to you and hand out our first assignment.”

Even if Miss EDI cannot see, Cassia nods in understanding before tugging her brother along.  He makes a grunt of unhappiness at being pulled, but follows along as they step into the colorfully decorated room.  There are little boxes on the walls with their names on them - that being one of the few things Cassia knows how to read - but they’re empty, so she can’t quite tell what they’re for.  She supposes Miss EDI will tell.  In the corner is a large playmat and more boxes in the walls for colors, blocks, and toys, and she wonders what kind of teaching they’ll learn with those.  Other items are put away in clear boxes and chests, giving her an excitement for all the many things to learn in store for them.

Skipping to the front of the class, Cassia takes the seat directly in the middle so that she will be able to have the best few of the lessons on the screen before them.  She can tell her brother doesn’t like the choice, but he sits beside her anyways, giving a huff.

“Aren't you excited, Damo?”  She shakes his shoulder and he grunts, brow plates frowning.  

“No.  I wanna go home.”  He sighs and looks around the room to the others sitting down.  “I don't like it here.”

She frowns, trilling in sadness, but gets up and steps closer to hug him.  “It's gonna be okay, you'll see.  And Miss EDI can teach us how to be as smart as mommy and daddy.  Maybe even smarter!”

He snorts, but smiles a bit.  “No one's as smart as daddy.”

“Wait til I get outta school.”  She grins and puts her hands on her hips, puffing up her chest.  “I be the smartest in all the galaxy.”

He grins now and nods his head rapidly, throw a  fist in the air.  “And I'll be the strongest!”


	8. Christmas 12/2189

It began with a single, innocent question.

"Jane?" Garrus' curious tone draws her attention from her studious examination of his massive - when compared to her own - hand she holds in her own. "What's 'Christmas'?"

She pauses, quirking a brow he won't see in surprised confusion. Where the hell that came from, she has no clue, but she's sure as shit going to find out. Sitting up from where they were laying back against the pillows in their bed, she turns to better face him.

"Okay, my question first. What the fuck? Not that it's not a stupid question, but where in the world did that randomly come from?" She knows his intentions are good, though, and she tells him so with a smile and reclaims his hand to hold. "How did you even hear about it?"

He rumbles deeply and sits up as well, reaching for a datapad on the bedside table. "I've been looking up human things to do with or for the twins. I found that Christmas is a big human holiday for many and doesn't necessarily include religion. I mean, some celebration does, but I thought we could-"

She chuckles at his sweet gesture to include her people's cultures into their 'let's just wing it' child raising and raises a hand to still him. "Down, boy. Put on the brakes." She reaches for the pad, laying it on the bed beside her to free his other hand so she can take it in hers, squeezing. "While it may be my people, I have zero clue about Christmas beyond what I've seen in books and vids."

Her husband hums and smiles softly, leaning closer to touch his forehead to hers. "How about we learn together?"

Chuckling warmly, she nods against him and squeezes his hands. "Yeah. We'll make it the best damn Christmas we can." She releases his hands and spins on her ass to lay against the headboard. His arm wraps over her shoulder to hold her close as she grabs the datapad up off of the bed. "I say we start tonight."

"Sounds like a plan," he agrees with a deep purr and cups her hand around the datapad to help hold it up to he can see the screen.

* * *

"Tell me again how this thing works?" Jane pokes at the portable fireplace they had Harrot requisition for them as one of the many items they'd need for their Christmas. "We only have until tonight when EDI brings the twins home from school. And she's even distracting them with 'after school activities'."

She sighs in defeat and steps away from the electric thing, never one for tech. Turning to see how Garrus is coming along with setting up the tank they'd use for the two turtles they had shipped over on the entry way's platform between the two sets of ascending steps. He seems to be in a better place than herself, actually managing to follow the directions to prepare it for the animals and finally setting the two turtles loose in their new home.

For some reason, there was a Christmas song that called for turtles and doves, but like hell were they going to find doves and a way to house them in time. Then there was whatever a partridge was and the pear tree. The tree, they had managed to find an artificially grown version of -  _planter included!_  - and had it up in the corner of the dining area, but the partridge, whatever the hell that was, eluded them, but Jane remembers there was once a band that shared the name back in Earth history. With that in mind, she had Harrot find a holodisk of their songs and hung it up in the pear tree's branches.

 _Good enough_.

"Can you get the fireplace running?" Walking over towards the banister right above him, she smiles and leans against it. "You're so much better at getting shit done apparently."

He chuckles and wipes his hands off on a disposable rag, stepping away from the tank to take the few steps up to her level. "Alright, alright. Because I love you." He smirks at her scoff and leans down to kiss the top of her forehead, just at her hairline. "How about you work on the tree? At least what you can reach?"

"Sure, make fun of the short woman."

"There's a step ladder in the closet," he says, as if not hearing her grumble, and approaches the electrically controlled fireplace. "There still some logs on the porch?"

She hums an affirmative as she grabs the short ladder from the closet and heads to where they have their tree already half decorated. Sure, it looked odd in the corner of their living room, higher than the ceiling and, thus, bent over so that at least half a meter hung over, but it was what they saw in an apparently popular vid. In it, the father had cut down his own tree and, even though it was too tall, insisted on putting it into the house, so Jane and Garrus figured they do the same. While they couldn't cut their own tree, they could have Harrot find them one, and, together, they spent most of this morning trying to get it into the house so that they can be done with their decorating before the twins came home.

"Did you remember to put all the lights on the house? Like in the movie?" According to the same movie, the goal was to cover every centimeter of the house in a light show of corded lights and Christmas figures. Except, unlike the movie, they made sure to check and double check to make sure everything lit up before hanging them and finding out there was a short somewhere. "Did you spell anything?"

"'Merry Christmas, Damocles and Cassia.' That's all I could get in one surface, but the rest of the front of the house and roof are covered completely." He chuckles as he pokes around inside the fireplace's panel and she grabs a box of round, shiny ornaments. "Everyone will be able to see it from orbit."

She snorts and starts to hang the large balls in a random pattern on the branches, starting where she could reach first. "What? Go out there and try again. I want them to see us from Earth."

Her mate laughs that rough - but beautiful in its uniqueness - sound of cheer as he stops and looks over his shoulder at her. "You're free to go out there and redo it."

"You kidding? That's what I have you for." Grinning at his laugh, she chuckles with his amusement before turning back to the tree. "Okay, so we finish up here, the peking duck" - again, something from another, yet separate movie - "whatever that is, is cooking. Mistletoe is up. Got the sexy leg lamp already together and we only need to turn it on. We also got the gingerbread house together and on the table, the fruit cake baked, candy canes with the gingerbread house on the table. Their presents are packed and the snow machine, we'll start right before they get here." She stops to go over her mental list. "Is that everything?"

"You cooking the other food in case this dinner is disgusting?"

She scowls at him and thinks for a moment about tossing one of the ornaments at him, but it's glass and she'd much rather not throw the delicate grenade his way. "Yes,  _honey_ , I have turian versions of the food ready too." Tossing aside the now empty box, she grabs another full of the glistening ornaments. "The last thing is your outfit." She chuckles at the idea of him in a santa outfit, which is odd considering the species difference. "You ready for that?"

"I don't have a choice, but I'll deal." His tone is full of amusement and he trills in what she's come to know as an 'ah-ha' moment. Glancing over, she catches him standing up victorious over the fireplace as a small fire begins to build. "Well, that's done." He looks over to her and grins smugly. "Need help?"

"I hate you, you tall bastard," she says as he takes the green ornament from her hand and hangs it high on the tree. "Be useful and actually help instead of flaunting your height over me."

Chuckling, he wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into a hug. "I like you short. My tiny, little timebomb."

She waves away his attempt to kiss her in feigned annoyance and he rumbles, grabbing one of last boxes of ornaments. With his help, the tree begins to flourish with shining colors and Jane can't wait to see it when the lights she wrapped around it earlier are on. She holds the last box up for him, handing an ornament over each time he offers an empty hand. Scanning the rest of their hard work with a smile, she doesn't notice his last request for a new ornament until she hears him clear his throat exaggeratedly.

"If you're not going to hand it over, you might as well be within reach," he says with a chuckle when she snaps to attention. "Think they'll like it?"

"I sure hope so. This was hard work." She smiles at his raised brow, knowing that she's only joking and would do anything for their children. The small task of rushing to decorate the house in the time between when they dropped off the twins to school and then when EDI will bring them for the night. "I don't think the vids stack up to this."

"Because we went with our own improvisations?"

She snorts at his snark and tosses the box at him, it bouncing off his dense head. "Alright, smart ass. Time to get dressed. I'll double check everything."

"I'm still wondering about that." When she hears the confusion in his voice, she looks back to him from where she's collapsing the ladder. "Just why am I dressing as a strange man that supposedly breaks into people's houses, demands food, and gives unknown presents to children? I mean, we're trying to tell the twins  _not_ to take things from or talk to strangers. Isn't this the  _opposite_ of what we want?"

Her eyes widen at the realization that, fuck, he's right. "Holy shit…"

"And wouldn't my absence and the presence of this strange man scare them?"

"Fuck…" Putting her hand to her forehead, she taps her foot in effort to quickly think up something to fix this glaring error in their Christmas they've planned out so well. "Uh… Okay. I can do this…" She stops and looks over him, fringe to toes. "You should really dress and, uh… I'll think of something for when they get here."

Garrus is dubious but nods, giving her forehead a gentle nip before heading into their bedroom. Jane puts her hands on her hips and gazes over the room, examining their work. She smiles at what feels like a Christmas, even if they flew by the seat of their pants through the entire planning process. Still, she takes some solace in the fact that at least there isn't anyone around to walk all over the twins' enjoyment of the experience by comparing tonight to what  _should be._

With the short ladder put away, she climbs the stairs to the highest level and kneels beside the artificial snow machine. She knows this idea will leave a massive mess to clean up, Garrus and herself forced into sweeping up all the tiny flakes of fake snow, but what kind of Christmas would this be without the trademark snow? Hell, in every damn Christmas song she could find, the damn stuff is mentioned, so there's no way they're walking away from the idea, no matter the time it'll take to clean up.

She hums as she looks over the command console for the somewhat large machine, drumming her fingers along the metal surface as she reads and tries to understand. There's a list of commands for the type of downfall to simulate and Jane stares at the descriptions, never knowing there were so many damn ways to say 'snowing'. She knows she doesn't want a fucking blizzard, so she avoids the highest amount of snow and clicks the second to last command, 'flurry'.

Immediately, with a hum, the machine kicks to life. As she stands, Jane looks over the banister and watches tiny flecks of whatever the hell they use for fake snow begin to be thrown over the living room to drift slowly down. She figures she picked the right choice, as there are very few pieces being shot out of the machine, and she knows that, in no time, there will be enough to leave a layer down below. All that's left is the final touches of lowering the house's temperature just slightly and helping Garrus with his turian Santa Claus outfit.

Taking the stairs two at a time, her shit eating grin grows with each step as she runs in hope to catch him, have her time to laugh at how ridiculous he looks, and be able to collect herself for when the kids show up within the next hour. When she gets into the room, he actually doesn't look too bad, to her disappointment. "Ah, come on!"

That gets his attention and he finally turns away from the mirror and to her, brow plate raised in question. "What?"

"You aren't supposed to actually look good in it!" She walks over to get a better look of him.

Turian clothes based off a human celebration wasn't just hard, it was nearly impossible. In fact, they had to pay a high price for Harrot to go to a special seamstress to design a pattern and sew together a costume for a turian. The boots and red pants were easy, just get some red pants - not difficult - and some high, black boots that weren't combat boots - a bit more difficult given his tendency to always wear them.

The jacket, however, was a whole other story. How the hell were they supposed to find a long, red winter jacket with tufts of white fluff in a society where everything was utilitarian down to every detail? Even their winter wear looked like it was meant for a soldier to go into battle, not a mixed species gift giving, jolly old - and apparently magical - man. This specialty ordered jacket, however, looked really good on her mate. Sure, he was lacking the huge belly, but to the designer's credit, there weren't really fat turians. It just wasn't physically possible for the species.

The deep red cloth of the jacket covers him from just above his spurs, up his body to cinch at his waist with a wide, black belt with even a big, gold buckle to secure it just like in the stereotypical pictures and vids. It trails over his broad shoulders and down his arms, the cuffs hemmed with a thick collection of what looked like white fur, but was sure to be synthetic with the universal animal rights laws. Instead of a hat, however, the jacket rises over Garrus' cowl and pools at the base of his neck in a hood large enough to cover his fringe and still lay over his brows even with the same white faux fur that lined it.

He hums and tilts his head, holding his arms out to his sides. "Well? Do I look like I'd bring good boys and girls presents?"

Jane chuckles and comes over to him, looking at the bed to find that he's discarded the hat -  _good, considering that thing won't stay on his damn head like it would a human's_ \- and, surprisingly, a beard. "Why'd that come with a beard? Turians don't have hair."

Garrus shrugs and grabs the curly, satin looking flock of hair and chuckles before holding it up to his face. "How do I look? Or." Shifting to lay it on his head, he adds, "How's this? Do I pass for human?"

Jane laughs, snatching it away and tossing it on the bed. "I think that seamstress was confused over what the hell we were asking for."  _Poor lady probably didn't have a clue what a 'Santa Claus' even was._ "But, honestly?" She waits for his curious rumble and smirks, cocking a hip and motioning his person. "I was hoping you'd look more ridiculous."

He snorts and butts his head to hers before walking to the closet. "Well, I'd like to say the tables are turning." Unable to see what he's doing, she lifts a brow in intrigue before watching him turn around, box in hand. "I got you a costume too."

"If that's a Mrs. Claus outfit, I'm shooting you." She crosses her arms at the idea that he'd really expect her to dress like an old woman. "Most humans  _don't_ want to look old, so like hell am I wearing a white haired wig."

"Good for you, we already have one," he teases with a smirk and she scoffs, dropping her arms and looking for something to throw, grabbing a model of a geth cruiser. "Now, now." He's suddenly beside her thanks to that damn light walk he can do when he really tries, taking the model from her hand. "I don't want to have to put you on the naughty list." He growls that last bit, leaning down to her ear. "Well, unless you really want to see my punishment."

She shivers and swats at his shoulder with the back of her hand. "Alright, let's not traumatize the kids by smelling like sex right before their Christmas." He chuckles and nods, handing her the box. Taking it, she's smiling in amusement until she lifts the lid. "What the fuck is this?"

He laughs as she stares, utterly thrown, by the dark green and red outfit. She was ready to find some type of skimpy outfit meant for  _after_ the party and for their eyes only, yet here she is pulling out a -  _no, he didn't_  - elf outfit, striped stockings and curled, brown boots included. Holding it as far as she can from her body, she glares at him.

"Really?  _This_ is my present?"

Taking control of himself, he purrs and shakes his head. "No, you have more presents. This is because you should be dressed too."

"As an  _elf_?! If this is another short thing-"

"What else would it be?" He ducks from her smack with the box, chuckling. "You're supposed to be my little helper, not my abuser."

"I don't know how Mrs. Claus can put up with you."

He hums, as if thinking, before smiling and rumbling. "I can deal without her if I have you."

"Oh no," she says as she waves his attempt at assuaging her with affection, though her smile is wide as she chuckles. "That won't work on me." Bouncing back a step, she walks from him and over towards the opposite side of the bed to examine just what he got her.

It's not too bad, with its red, puffed out underdress and dark green jacket that goes over it and hangs lower in the back with its own little collar of white faux fur. There's even a annoyingly cute hat to match that she, unfortunately, has a head shaped for and, thus, will have to wear. The stockings at least aren't only red and white like those damn candy canes in the other room with their small bands of matching green within the white. The shoes, though sporting that ridiculous curl, look comfortable at least, and it is only one night, right?

With a sigh, she jerks a hand towards the door. "Out. Or else you'll jump me the second I take off any of my clothes." She smirks at his chuckle and grabs the hem of her shirt, pulling it off down to her bra. "So off you go. Make sure I didn't miss anything outside."

He gives her a dejected sigh with a heave of his shoulders, but nods and steps out into the living room, closing the door behind him. Blowing air through her closed lips, Jane tosses her shirt away and starts to strip off her pants to get dressed.

* * *

EDI sends them a ping just moments before releasing the two monsters at the front door of the house. Despite their offer to come inside and see, the AI seemed to have understood the unspoken request for tonight to be the four of them, at least until they were comfortable with how to do it right to give the best to the twins. More people might add pressure they'd rather do without.

When Garrus straightens and pulls up his hood, eyes moving towards the front door, Jane assumes he's heard the twins at the door and follows suit, throwing on her hat. Hopefully, they don't scare the shit out the two three year olds, but maybe seeing their faces under all the frightening clothes will ease the panic.

Jane admits, her heart is pounding in her chest and stomach has somehow seemed to fill itself with a fluttering that makes her fidget. She now knows the excitement the kids have when they can't seem to keep still and hop from foot to foot, chirping and trilling. Jane can't make the noises they do, but she does have to tamp down the squeal pushing at her throat to be let loose and she bounces in anticipation.

She knows exactly when the door opens and the twins take in what sights they have from the entryway by their trilling gasp and Cassia's "whoa". Damocles, ever Jane's little copy, belts out a "what the fuck?!" and Garrus gives her an exasperated look that she merely grins at. 'Oh, let them have it for today, at least', her look says, but she knows him all too well to know his retort would be somewhere along the lines of them letting loose the occasional curse any damn day they want. Even Cassia has a few slips, but hers are much more tame than that her brother's.

Chuckling, Jane calls out. "Come up, guys."

"What're those?" Cassia asks, her voice rumbling.

"Turtles!" Damocles shouts in surprise as they find their first Christmas surprise Garrus set up at the platform that connects entryway to the higher living areas.

Seeing as how they aren't going to come see what she and Garrus have done without something to break their concentration on the reptiles, Jane walks to the banister right above then and smiles. "You guys want to see the rest?"

Their eyes widen in complete and utter confusion, but they nod slightly. Breaking the silence, Cassia is first to speak as she rounds the turtles' tank and bounds up the few steps. "What's it, mommy? Why you dressed like that?"

Snorting, she looks down to her daughter as Damocles jumps up the last step. "What? You don't like my new outfit?"

"Your shoes look funny," her son says, pointing just before he turns to whatever sight that's made his sister click her vocals, what's intended to be more interesting than the way their mother's dress. "Huh?" is all he seems capable of saying.

"Mommy!" Cassia hops and turns wide, happy eyes up to Jane. "What is it?"

Jane smiles as she hears the footsteps of her mate round the corner between their bedroom and living room. He, bless him, even tries for a deep 'ho, ho, ho'. Surprised, the two twins jump and cling to her legs just before recognition hits. Squealing in laughter, they run to their dad and hug him tight when he kneels down to their level. Still, she sees the question in their eyes when they let him pick them to his hips.

"Cassia, Damocles?" She smiles when they hold out their hands to catch the false snow in amazement. "We wanted to celebrate a human holiday, Christmas."

"What's Chrismas?"

Garrus chuckles and looks to their son. "It's a human holiday."

Jane nods and jerks a thumb towards the kitchen. "People had big meals, lots of family, a tree with lots of decoration," she says as she motions the massive fur before grinning and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper as she leans in, "and presents."

They both gasp and kick in their dad's arms until he laughs softly and sets them down. "Easy, now. You have to get them from Santa and his little helper." The last, he adds with a playful smirk and she snorts, rolling her eyes.

"What's 'Santa'?" Cassia doesn't stop looking around for any presents, presents that they've managed to hide down in the locked armory. Knowing the twins, at least one of them would feign needing to go to the bathroom or something so they can search the house.

_Little, devious bastards._

"Santa," Jane starts, humming to herself as she thinks of how to put it. Last thing she really wants is to freak their kids the fuck out by telling them is what her people apparently think is okay to tell to children. "Santa is the name for the pretend person daddy is right now." She chuckles and looks to him just as he grins and lifts his chin in pride before their twins' eyes. "And, when he pretends to be Santa, he brings presents." She holds up a finger to grab their attention. "But he only does it once a year on this day, and only when you both are a good boy and girl."

While not really the best idea, it seems to be good enough for their young minds and, as she looks up to her husband, it has seemed to assuage his worries because he gives her a smile and nod. Now, how long the twins will accept that reasoning, she doesn't know, but she doesn't give a damn right now. Let future Jane and Garrus figure it out.

"Mommy?" Damocles looks to her, holding his hand out and watching the white flakes land in his palm. "Is this snow?"

"But Miss EDI said it doesn't snow on Vimire," Cassia interjects, staring at them as if wounded for supposedly being lied to.

"It doesn't." Garrus takes this task to explain as Jane slinks away under the excuse of checking the food.

A glorious smell waft into the room, but, when she checks the duck - and whatever turian animal is the similar looking dish beside it in the oven - the skin isn't crispy like the recipe. Plus, when she checks, the inside is still really red, so she guesses it's still raw, closing the oven door. This will either be a great dinner, or a horrible disaster, but at least they have the presents to fall back on. Not really a way to go wrong with presents.

She comes back to the living room and leans on the column of their dining room, watching how the twins stare in awe at the tree and its ornaments. Garrus stands beside them with a smile, occasionally holding up a hand to stop them from touching and breaking the fragile, glass ornaments, but it doesn't take long before they look back to her, then him.

"Santa?" Cassia, poor girl, sounds completely confused of what to call her father. Still, Garrus gives her a gentle nod and she gains the courage to push through. "When will we get the presents?"

Jane laughs, their kids all too predictable. Shaking her head, she grins at her mate. "Well, we might as well. The food still needs a bit and it'd just be rude to make them sit around bored."

He chuckles and nods, standing tall and putting a hand on each of their twins' shoulder. "Go sit down while mommy and I go get your presents." They grin and practically dive bomb into the couch, leaving their father to shake his head as he rumbles. Waiting until they are stepping down the stairs and heading for the armory, he says, "Nice save with the Santa thing, though maybe we can just leave it out next year? I think we've already confused them enough. What's the saying, blew their minds out?"

Jane laughs a short sound of amusement before shaking her head. "It's just blew their minds. Like if something is so unbelievable their brain feels like it just overloads."

"What a strange saying from a strange species."

"Hey now, you're married to one of those strange aliens." She playfully jabs his waist and he snorts, grabbing her hand to squeeze it once before releasing. "Alright, let's get all this shit upstairs before they tear the house down in excitement."

Jane will admit, they could have gotten more presents from the kids if they had the time, but with Garrus and her idea to even do this so close to the day of Christmas, there just wasn't enough time to requisition everything. Hopefully, though, next year will be better with more time to prepare and, this year, they can impress the twins with what little she and Garrus managed.

They'd hate to disappoint the brightness in their lives by not giving them what they truly deserve.

Arms full to the point where they can barely see over the pile, Jane and Garrus climb up into the snow laden living room where Damocles and Cassia play with what's managed to collect on the couch cushions. Had Jane not been so elated about today, she'd have an aneurysm over the mess she'll have to clean tomorrow, but she just tells herself it's only one day. For one day of happiness, she can clean a mess of fake snow all over the living room.

Chirps and impatient rumbling fill the room as she and Garrus set down and start to separate the presents. She can't stop the chuckles at their complete amazement at, what seems to them, getting presents for no damn reason. Still, what's more entertaining is the look on her mate's face when she hands him a wrapped box, but that smug victory only lasts until he sets it down, steps down the stairs and brings back something.

Her mouth falls open when he climbs the steps with none other than a guitar in his hand, the white washed wooden instrument seemingly brand new. Eyes tearing up - but damn if she'll let them fall - she meets him halfway and cups his face, pulling him into a kiss. When she lets him go, she smiles and takes the present with a tender touch.

"There's more." He rumbles as he moves the opposite hand that, until now, she hadn't realized was hidden behind his back. Shifting and pulling it out, he shows her a thin, flat present. "Don't worry. It's not something for our eyes only, so it's okay for them to see you open it."

She chuckles and follows him back into the living room where the twins, devious as they are, are trying to peek under the edges of the wrapping without a sound to reveal their intent. "Alright, alright. You've held out long enough." Setting her guitar down against the wall beside the tree, she takes Garrus' offered hand to join him on the couch. She motions the boxes with a hand. "Have at it."

The twins could not have unwrapped their present fast enough even if they tried, attacking it like wild varren. Quickly, the room fills with shocked trills, excited chirps, and loud squeals of utter joy as they reveal all that their parents managed to find in order to make this celebration the best they could.

"Look!" Damocles lifts a box out from the pile of discarded trash, grinning with mandibles wide at the krogan action figure inside. "I got a krogan…" He grabs another box intended to be it's partner. "And a rach-eye!"

Jane smiles at her mate's warm and soothing chuckle at her side and looks to Cassia to see what she's found in her presents. As if feeling her eyes, their daughter looks up and smiles with a loud chirp. "Look, mommy! A Alliance Barbie and Specker Danila!" She points to the boxes, one a doll she's been eying and the other an action figure of her turian idea on her cartoons.

While their many toys of various species' superheroes and imaginary idols grab their attention, it's Garrus' next presents that really send the kids into a whirlwind of stunned and wordless vocal sounds. In long, heavy boxes is the very beginning of their 'training', as Garrus put it, an airsoft gun for each of them. She knows it's so very Garrus, and turian, to do, but she can't blame him when she's noticed the way the twins seem so entranced when she and Garrus practice out in the sand, shooting out over the water. Even with their age, she knows he'll take care of them, train them the proper ways of handling their weapons, and raise them to be the best damn marksmen around. She, however, will gladly teach them how to bash with those weapons, turning them into a club, but she knows she can't compare to the natural born instructor in her mate.

When she catches her husband's eyes, she shakes her head with a chuckle and reaches to take his hand, giving it a warm squeeze. "I know you'll raise them right. We don't want them shooting their eyes out or anything."

He purrs and leans down to kiss her cheek. "Don't worry. I'll take them from them and practice safe handling practices with them first. It'll be some time before they can shoot those things." He tilts his chin towards the two children, where Damocles is trying to get into the case. "They're locked to my tool." He raises his voice to be heard. "Not yet, Damocles. We'll start to practice tomorrow, after school. Okay?"

Though clearly disappointed, their son nods and turns to his toys, ripping at the packages with teeth and talons. Watching him for a moment, Jane just lays her head back against her husband's chest, smiling in the comfortable noise of the twins tearing at the barriers between themselves and their prizes. When Garrus shifts behind her, as if reaching for something, she leans up and turns to look at him, a question on her lips.

"I want you to open your gift," he says before she can speak, purring as he offers the thin package.

She smiles as she takes it, feeling its considerable heft for the size. "Only if you open yours. Well, the  _child safe_ one."

His brow plates raise at that before he growls softly and leans forward to kiss her. Ever the tease, he pulls away just as she parts her lips to deepen the kiss, chuckling at her frustrated pout. "Later. I promise."

"Tease," she jokes with a smirk and nudges him with her elbow before, finally, turning to her gift in hand. "You really didn't have to get me this too. The guitar is enough."

"No. It's never enough." He smiles when she glances his way, blushing at his words. "Now go on. You're turning me too soft with those looks."

Like that, it's gone as she snorts and chuckles. "You're such a mood killer."

"I try."

She'd swat him, but her body stills at yet another heartfelt surprise from him. Smiling as she runs her fingers over the leather surface of her newest sketchbook, Jane turns to him and kisses under his jaw, right on the tender hide of his throat. "Thank you," she whispers. "You're too good to me."

"I know." Still, his warm purr tells her enough of his own feelings towards that statement.

"Your turn." She glances to make sure the kids are still good, now playing with their new toys among the mountains of torn or shredded wrapping paper and packaging.

The box fits snuggly in one hand and, though she's sure he probably thinks it's just a mod, she truly hopes he likes what really lies in that tiny package. Sure, she can always fall back on the set of tools she got as a backup, but she doesn't want to, doesn't want to settle when she can give him so much more. An uneasiness settles in her belly as she watches him slowly unwrap the small, black box. When he opens it, he blinks in surprise and Jane has a moment where her heart drops before he starts to rumble deep in his chest. Picking out the treasure inside, Garrus flicks his mandibles in happiness as he turns the ring in his fingers so that the light glistens off its surface.

Feeling like she needs to explain, Jane plays with the hem of her dress as she flushes and speaks. "I've seen you often touching where your ring used to be… you know, when you still had that arm." She looks up to see his warm and soothing eyes looking into her own. "So… I got you a new one." He slowly smiles and she clears her throat, lifting up to point at the broad banded, silver ring and explain in attempt to get his attention off her, to stop that awkward fluttering in her stomach. "There's three stones here… They're birthstones, a human thing. We have stones for the month people are born. I figured, since the twins were born on Earth, they can technically have one for themselves." When he touches her cheek with his free hand, she swallows and finally looks into his eyes. "There's two emeralds for them and… a diamond for me," she whispers.

"Jane." His voice is so calming with its smokey tone and deep vocals, and she finds herself melting into his touch. "I love it. Never as much as I love you and the kids, but I love it." He leans in and nuzzles his mouth plates against her lips. "Thank you. And Happy Christmas."

She can't find it in herself to correct him as she covers his hand holding her and leans the last few millimeters in to kiss him.

* * *

They don't manage to get the twins to sleep until the two little brats tire themselves out to the point of just collapsing at whatever game they were playing together down in front of the fireplace. Jane and Garrus didn't mind the late hour or having to carry the two children up to their rooms. It  _was_ Christmas, after all, and the mess of faux snow, torn wrappings, and dirty dishes from dinner - which actually turned out pretty damn good, if a bit disjointed in her mind with so much sweetness from the candy canes, gingerbread, and fruity cake - could wait until tomorrow to become an actual problem.

Hers and Garrus' footprints to their room are the last of the night as she locks the door behind them, lowering the lights to a warm intimacy. Turning to him, she takes his hands in hers to stop them from removing the smooth, velvety fabrics from his body. He rumbles and tilts his head in question, but she silences any inquiry when she takes each hand to her mouth and kisses his knuckles in turn, the same attention paid to artificial and real alike.

His purr is soothing and warm as he presses his cheek to hers, caressing her jaw with his mandible before stepping away and back towards the bed. Taking a seat, he smiles and gives a slight nod that she takes as agreement to do whatever it is she has planned. She just hopes to hell that he likes it and doesn't make a complete fool of herself.

Closing her eyes, she pumps a hip first left, then right, building a rhythm. Smirking, she opens her eyes and slowly sways from her place near the door, hands caressing down the faux fur of that ridiculous elf's jacket. Raising her voice higher, she starts to sing with each bump of her hip.

"Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree." She flicks a hand towards her chest. "For me." Running her hands down her chest, she lifts them to snap open the buttons of her jacket. "Been an awful good girl, Santa baby. So hurry down the chimney for me.

"Santa baby, an auto space convertible too. Light blue." She watches him tilt his head, not a reaction she figured he'd have, so she starts to bob her shoulders as she slowly slips the jacket down her arms to reveal the little red dress. "I'll wait up for you, dear." Standing before him, she leans forward and wiggles her chest so he can look down her cleavage. "Santa baby. So hurry down the chimney today.

"Think of all the fun I've missed. Think of all the fellas I haven't kissed." She smirks at his flick of mandibles, thinking she's got his attention now, and runs a hand under his jaw. "Next year, I could be, just as good. If you check off my Christmas list."

She stands up and reaches back to drag down the zipper ever so slowly as her other hand cups her breast for a split second in promise before sliding down to attract his eyes to her waist and hip. "Santa baby, I want a yacht and really that's not, a lot," she croons as she takes his hands up her hips before moving her hands to the top of her dress. "Been an angel all year." She shimmies the dress down over her breasts to pool at his hands to her words. "Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight."

She expects a growl, rumble, or purr as he helps her dress down over her swaying hips, but something's not quite right as he looks at her over with a completely lost look. As the exact  _opposite_ reaction, she can't help but let her shoulders drop as she hangs her arms. "This isn't working, is it?"

Garrus hums, his brow plates drawn down in what she's come to know, when coupled with that sound, as his 'thinking face'. Again, not the reaction she wants. "Why would you be asking Santa for things? I thought it was only for kids?" His eyes widen. "This isn't a children's song, is it?"

The frightened shock in his voice makes her chuckle, at least lightening the mood. "No, Garrus. It's not a children's song." She cups his scarred cheek and he leans into her palm. "That'd be very awkward and traumatizing for us all."

"Then-"

"Let's not question it anymore." She shakes her head at the disastrous attempt at being sexy for her husband. "How about we skip the strip tease?"

He rumbles with a smile and leans forward to nuzzle between her breasts. "It was nice if not for the song as distraction."

She laughs, her chest heaving against his face as it vibrates against her skin with his own amusement. "I'll remember that." Cupping his face, she lifts his head to smile warmly down to him as he releases her to let the dress fall. "How about she skip the strip show?"

"Well, You don't really have anymore clothes anyways, and pulling off socks isn't really all that arousing."

Snorting, she quirks her lip and playfully swats his shoulder. "Smart ass." She leans down and kisses him, slow and heavy with curling tongues and shared breath. When she draws away, she whispers heatedly against his ear. "Get undressed."

He growls and shifts their position so that its his rough, growling voice against her ear. "How about you take the chance to touch me before I turn the tables and take your control," he chuckles deeply as she shivers, adding, "then take you."

She sighs as she steps back and quickly kicks her shoes away somewhere where they'll probably trip over in the morning, but she could care less right now when he smirks at her, eyes growing dark. Reaching out for his dark red jacket, she claims his mouth and he immediately opens for her tongue as she pushes in, fighting for control while she has it. She knows that, once he's stripped and bare, the tables will turn, but it's a switch she'll gladly give up when it leads to his massive form freeing her from the binds of reality, of the world outside this room.

The thick belt and jacket's snaps quickly fall open at her insistent, blind tugging. Garrus relaxes his shoulders, letting go of her hips long enough for her to push off the offending fabric. She pulls back from his mouth for a surprised glance at his already bare chest, eyebrows raising. "You weren't wearing anything under?"

"Was I supposed to?" He nibbles at her ear. "Are you really complaining about whether or not I wore something underneath?"

Humming, she pulls the corner of her lip between her teeth and presses into the firm presses of mouth plates against her earlobe and tongue playing against the pearl earring it sports. "No," she says breathily, hands grabbing his pants' hem and tugging impatiently. "Stand up. These. Off."

He chuckles against her, the sound rumbling with his growing arousal, and stands to tower over her. She runs her tongue against the splits in his plates as his chest expands with each deep breath as her hands tug at the closures of his pants until they rest against the juts of his hips. It's then that he cups her chin and lifts her head.

"You need to remove my boots first." How his voice can be so calm, she has no damn idea, but she quickly gets her revenge for his composure as she runs her hands over the bulge in his pants on their way down this thighs. "Jane," he hisses, then purrs down to her as she gets to her knees. "Don't use your mouth. I want you alone."

While disappointing that she can't taste him, she can't complain at his want to focus entirely on being inside her. Hell, she's practically impatient to fuck and be fucked by him, so who is she to waste time swallowing him down when what he really wants is to join and spend all his energy taking her, making her weak. Still, she lets herself nibble and kiss against his thighs and straining length beneath the fabric of his pants as she loosens the pants around his spurs, pulls open the catches of his boots, and holds them as he steps out.

She loves the sound of his vocals now as loud as his voice as he says her name once more when she disobeys him to pull open his pants and run her tongue along his underside. Looking, she smirks and licks her lips when his nearly black eyes stare down at her in what looks like promise. She doesn't look away from those beautiful eyes as she roughly jerks his pants down his legs, over his spurs, and tosses them into some far off corner of the bedroom. When she tries to get in another disobedient lick, however, he hefts her up and into his arms.

Letting out a gasp as he easily cups her ass and spins to toss her on the bed, Jane immediately climbs up the bed without breaking their eye contact. He follows on hands and knees until he's directly over her, staring heatedly into her eyes with a loud crooning echoing from his chest. In this moment, she knows just how strong a hold he still has over her, and one that seems to only have grown through the years. The thought coupled with his sinister tongue being dragged up her neck that steals a long moan from her lips.

Her hands grip his waist in need, but he doesn't fall for the move of impatience as he shifts to lean on his metal arm, freeing the other to ghost down her neck and chest. Stopping at her breast, he cups one and circles her nipple with his thumb as he nips once on her ear before lowering his head to her opposite, lonely breast. Another moan falls from her lips as tongue and thumb circle each nipple before punching with mouth plates and fingers, working her into a needy puddle in tandem.

He must smell her growing arousal because he emits a sounds that is both groan and snarl when she presses her thighs together to ease that wet ache that's blossomed into a fiery inferno in her belly. Body screaming for action, she practically purrs when he slides his hand further down to stroke between her legs, easily finding her clit after so many years driving her insane. Her hips jerk against his palm as he teases her opening with a knuckle, never pressing in with caution for his sharp talons, but it's all she needs to bite her lip and jerk his head from her breast to kiss him hungrily. Garrus croons against her mouth, the hum vibrating through his tongue and against her own as they fight for dominance, demanding more from each other until she forces them to part for breath.

"Please," she whispers against his mouth, nibbling and licking the edge of his plates. "I want to feel you."

"You are." His tease earns him a glare, but he relents, nipping her lip as he pulls away his hand from her center to take her thigh. Shifting, he guides her legs around his hips as he kneels between them, the heavy weight of his length against her making her tremble in desperate anticipation.

Reaching between them, she guides him as he pushes home, dragging out a wanton whine from her. Her hands tangle in the sheets as she arches, breasts pressing against his plated chest and neck opening to his urgent and forceful nips and licks. While one hand supports his weight, he raises just enough to drop the other back to her breast, teasing her nipple as he slowly grinds to let her stretch around his girth.

When she grabs his fringe, needing more, dying for more, he finally starts to move. Pulling back, his hips snap forward as he thrusts into her. She moans with him, their voices tangling as he thrusts against her with enough force to cause their connection to create obscene, yet arousing, sounds of their combined fluids. Only his snarls and grunts against her slick skin can overcome the delicious sounds as he takes her with a force she knows too well from him - and she loves every moment and every thrust of it.

Shifting her hold to rub under his fringe in unison with his pinches of her nipples, she feels him shudder but never falter. It's when he drops his hand ever lower to her clit, circling it with the fast speed of his hips snapping forward, that she sutters in her own touches, pressing her face into his cowl. "Fuck."

"That's… what I'm doing…" His chuckle is forced, barely making it past his primal sounds of dominance and claim over her, and any retort falls from her lips as she bites onto him, body going completely rigid.

Like a taut string snapping under his overwhelming efforts to send her over the ledge, Jane lets out a mix of muffled scream and moan into his hide as she writhes uncontrollably. Electricity shoots through her limbs like a livewire she she digs her fingers into his back and feels more than hears him groan against her. His thrusts only continue for a few more bucks before he grips her hip tightly, probably bruising, and his heated seed fills her to the point that his knot causes some to leak out onto the bed sheets when it locks them together.

For minutes, the two just focus on breathing, chests heaving against one another. When he seems to find control of his limbs again, Garrus rolls them to their sides. While thankful his weight isn't on her for the time it takes them to unlock, she's a bit disappointed that the odd feeling of comfort that comes from him over her, pressing against her very form with nothing between them, is gone. Still, she can live with the closeness they have laying side by side in each other's arms as they are though.


	9. First 1/2190

"Okay, so here's their things," Mommy says as she hands Auntie Ellie a big bag where Damocles had watched her pack his and his sister's clothes because there wasn't room in their backpacks. "You can call us if you need to, but we might not answer if we're shooting shit up and all that jazz."

His mom waves her hand in the air as Auntie Ellie chuckles, nodding as she lifts the heavy bag to carry into hers and Kuncle's house. Damocles and Cassia can't really say Kunkle's name, knowing it's Arcahnus, but he always says that's wrong and urges them to just stick to the name that their mother gave him. He doesn't seem too happy, but he's not really mad either. He's like daddy when Damocles accidentally says a bad word like mommy, huffing and flicking his mandibles as he rubs a hand over his head.

That's enough to make Damocles and his sister always laugh at his silliness.

"Don't worry, Shepard." Auntie Ellie smiles down to Damocles before Cassia chirps.

"Are we gonna stay with you, Auntie Ellie?"

Damocles nods, silently agreeing with his sister's question, and their aunt chuckles, giving them a nod of her own before she kneels to their level. "You can stay with me and Arcanus for as long as your mommy and daddy are off working." She puts a hand by her mouth and leans closer, whispering. "And we might even skip school."

"I heard that," their dad says with a low and flat voice, using that same tone he always does when he pretends to be mad, but really isn't. "Let's not skip school, kids. Skipping school is bad."

"I wanna be bad." Damocles grins up at his dad, thinking it might not be too bad to skip a day of the other kids staring or not wanting to play with him and Cassia because they're different.

Daddy shakes his head with a chuckle as he kneels down and presses his forehead to Damocles'. "I know you do, but think of all the things you'd miss."

"Like playing!"

Their dad nods, looking to Cassia. "Right. Like playing with all the others." When he looks back to Damocles, he's frowning and rumbling. "I know it's hard, but it'll get better. I promise, my son."

"But-" Damocles is silenced with a big hug, his daddy purring as he rubs his cheek against Damocles' small and still flat fringe. He knows that, when daddy and mommy say things like that, there is no way he can really make them see the truth. They just won't understand, so he sighs and nods, giving up. "Okay, daddy."

His dad is quiet as he pulls Cassia into a hug, squeezing them tight with a low, high sound he hasn't made before, but lets them go before they can ask why and what it means. For some reason, the sound of it makes Damocles sad, like his daddy is sad himself, but he doesn't know why. Maybe it's because he's angshush about leaving Virmire with mommy?

Mommy is next to come down to their level, a smile on her lips that seems more saddened than happy, and Damocles thinks she feels the same way as daddy. Cupping his and Cassia's face, mommy then leans forward to kiss their forehead. It's gross, but, this time, Damocles doesn't rub it off because he thinks about how it'll be the last one for a while and that she'd be sad if he didn't wear it at least until she leaves.

"You both be sure to give your kunkle a run for his money." Her smile becomes more like when she's happy and both Damocles and his sister nod a lot. "That's my little monsters." She pulls them into another hug, kissing Cassia's head and whispering something to her before kissing Damocles' fringe. "You're my little man, Damocles. You be good and listen to your aunt and kunkle, okay?"

"Okay, mommy." He nods and hugs her tight, knowing he'll miss her. He really hopes she won't be gone too long with daddy, afraid that he won't be strong enough without them like they want him to be.

She stands and frowns, biting her lip before taking a deep breath. Looking to dad, she nods and he looks back to Auntie Ellie. "We'll comm when it's bedtime for them and in the mornings." He looks down to them and lays a hand on each of their heads, making Damocles giggle and swat at the heaviness on his head blocking his view. Daddy chuckles and rubs his fringe. "You ask to call us if you want to talk."

"Right," mommy says. "We're only a call away."

Turning to walk down the steps and onto the sand, mommy and daddy give one last wave and Damocles and Cassia wave back. With a final kiss blown to them which Damocles sticks his tongue out at in grossness and Cassia chirps and tries to catch, they are gone, heading to whatever they do for work. For some reason, now that they're gone, Damocles' tummy hurts, but he won't say anything to Auntie Ellie. He needs to be the big boy, the strong one just like daddy.

"Well." Auntie Ellie's voice pulls him away from staring at where mommy and daddy last were before the buildings hid them. "I guess it's breakfast time, right?"

"Uh huh," Cassia says and Damocles nods, taking Auntie Ellie's hand when she offers it while his sister takes the other one. "What're we gonna eat?"

Auntie Ellie stops suddenly and Damocles stumbles because he wasn't ready to just stop. Looking up to her to ask what's wrong, he sees her mouth hanging open and eye not covered with an eyepatch is wide. "Oh, shoot." She looks down to them and smiles with one corner of her lips. "Looks like I need to run to Harrot and get you something to eat. Dangit," she whispers as she lets their hands go to gently press their backs to make them walk. "You two can stay with Uncle Arcanus while I run to get you something to eat. What would you like?"

"Blast-O Crunchies!" Both Damocles and his sister yell, their second voices squealing at the idea of getting to eat their favorite cereal.

"Blast-O...Crunchies." Auntie Ellie taps her finger to her lips as she looks around the room, soon nodding. "Right. I can remember that." She looks down to them and smiles. "I'll be sure to get milk too."

"Auntie Ellie?" Cassia tilts her head. "How come you don't just get it from our house?"

She chuckles and rubs the back of her neck. "Well, I may have forgot to ask for the key. And it's not really right to break into your house when I can easily get you your cereal." She smiles and rubs Cassia's head, making Damocles' sister snort in laughter. "And this way we have some for whenever you come visit!"

"Yeah!" Damocles trills, knowing she's right, and bounces on his feet. Now that he thinks about it, he's really hungry and can't wait until Auntie Ellie brings the cereal. He thinks he may be able to eat the whole box if she lets him. "When we gonna eat?"

Auntie Ellie laughs so much she has to wipe at her eye to catch tears, but of happiness, Damocles knows. When she only chuckles, she smiles and nods. "Alright, alright. I'll go right away." She looks up and into the house. "How about you two go find Uncle Arcanus? Make sure that sleepyhead is out of bed?" When Damocles and his sister nod, his own mandibles flapping in excitement, their auntie points towards the hall. "Down there. It's the second door." She puts up two fingers. "Second, okay?"

"Uh huh. Number two," his sister says as she holds up two fingers and, when Auntie Ellie looks to him, Damocles does the same.

"Number two door," he says to make sure their auntie knows that he's smart enough from Miss EDI's lessons.

"Very good." Auntie Ellie nods and steps outside, grabbing the door knob. "I'll be right back. Promise."

"Okay, Auntie Ellie!" Cassia's call makes Auntie Ellie smile as she closes the door and Damocles looks to his sister as soon as they are alone.

He growls in dare. "I bet I can find Kunkle first!"

"Nuh uh! I can!" She grins and they both get into running position. "One. Two…"

"Three!" Finishing for her, he gets the head start and hears her squawk in upset before he hears her feet just behind his as they run down the hall. He keeps repeating "Number two, number two" until, almost running past it, he slips on the smooth floor and runs into the bedroom.

Damocles jumps up first, bouncing on the lump in the blankets and making their kunkle grunt. Cassia is right behind him, jumping on their kunkle and making him make a low groan as the two kids giggle and chirp happily. Tugging on the blankets, Damocles has to climb up onto Kunkle to uncover his head. When he hears a huff and sees his kunkle's gold eyes, he trills and grins wide.

"Kunkle!" he shouts as he bounces. "Wake up!"

"Damocles, Cassia." He makes a humming sound as he gives them an adulting look. "What are you doing?" He grunts when Cassia wiggles at his side, getting a good spot to sit on the bed.

Unlike Damocles, who is having fun, his sister flutters her mandibles and ducks her head at the small bit of sternness in Kunkle's questions. Damocles doesn't understand what's so bad about doing what they were told, and grins, hopping a bit on their Kunkle's chest, giggling at the huffs of air each time. When he finally picks Damocles up and sets him down on the pillow, Damocles says, "Auntie Ellie let us in."

"Mommy and daddy said we will stay with you and Auntie Ellie" Cassia says as she climbs up to take Damocles' earlier spot on their kunkle's chest.

"And where is you aunt, Ellie?"

Damocles sees something shiny on the table next to the bed and grabs them, seeing that they're Kunkle's rings for his mandibles. Stinking one around his finger, he spins it in the air like a hoop and watches the little light in the room shine on it. When he feels the bed shift, he looks over to see Kunkle pick Cassia up and put her beside Damocles before opening up his omnitool.

_I can't wait until I get one. They're so cool._

He hears his mommy's voice come from his kunkle's tool and fill the room. Wanting to see her, he pretends to have the rings on his own mandibles by looping them over the ends. He wiggles his head to feel them tickle the softness between his mouth and mandibles and, knowing they'll stay, starts to climb the pillows to peek over Kunkle's shoulder and down at the screen.

"Vakarian," his mommy says, the sounds of Uncle Joker's voice in the background talking about taking off, and sadness fills Damocles' chest as he frowns at her picture. He already misses her and daddy's hugs and kisses, and wishes he didn't always rub them off now that he can't have any more. "Is something wrong?"

"I believe you have forgotten to warn me of your plans concerning my tending to your children." As Damocles is too busy smiling to his mom, Kunkle reaches over and takes the rings off his little mandibles, setting them on the other table where Damocles can't reach.

"Damn, I knew we forgot something…" Mommy leans away and Cassia trills as she presses her face to Damocles' to get a look. " _Honey!_ We forgot to bring the kids with us!" Turning back to the screen, she looks up to see Damocles and his sister and smiles. "Hey, little ones. You having fun?"

"Uh huh! We jumped on Kunkle!" Cassia flicks her mandibles as she leans forward and makes a kiss sound to the floating image. "Love you, mommy."

"I love you too, Cassia." She looks to Damocles and tilts her head. "Don't be sad, big guy. We'll be home in no time. Just think how much fun you'll have with Kunkle!"

Kunkle sighs and Damocles looks up to see his shake of his head. That makes the young boy happier and he smiles, purring as he looks back to his mom. "I...I miss you." He makes a high, sad trill. "I wanna go with you."

Mommy frowns and reaches for him as if she could come through the image. "I miss you too, but we have to do some boring work. You wouldn't like it." She smiles, but her eyes still seem sad. "And we're only a call away."

He sniffles a bit, unable to really cry like mommy can when she tries to hide her really bad sadness sometimes. Nodding, he reaches out to try and take her hand, but only manages to break the image and make it go crazy looking. His eyes widen, fearing he broke it, and looks to Kunkle to apologize, but his kunkle shakes his head and looks to his mom, now perfect and easy to see.

"Besides," mommy says with a shrug. "Ellie agreed. And we all know you two share more than a bed."

Kunkle releases a long, low breath as he tilts his head one way, then the other. Damocles flicks his mandibles in worry as he looks to Cassia, seeing her afraid too. Did they anger their kunkle? Does he not want them to stay? Will he yell at them or mommy?

Damocles doesn't want any of that to happen and, when he tries to tell kunkle he's sorry, the big turian rumbles and lays a hand on Damocles' shoulder. Letting go, he then pushes Cassia gently towards the edge of the bed, relaxing the way his mandibles are tight against his chin. "Go wait for me in the kitchen." His gold eyes look to Damocles and the little boy can't help the flutter of shyness as Kunkle says, " _Both_ of you."

Grinning and giving a chirp of okay, Damocles scoots over the bed and jumps off after his sister. She takes his hand and pulls him in a hurry, the both of them soon running down the hall and into the kitchen. Skidding to a stop, both purr and giggle as they climb up onto the tall chairs at the counter-table. His sister instantly starts to sing her favorite song from the movie mommy and daddy watched with them last night as she kicks her feet, but Damocles sees something much more interesting.

On the counter is a small plate of what looks like cookies, but bigger and without chocolate chips. They must be some kind of adult cookie, but they look tasty enough for him, so he tries to reach for them. His arms are too short no matter how hard he tries to reach, but he gets an idea.

Looking to the hall where Kunkle is still in his room, Damocles gives another glance to the plate of cookies before he catches his sister's attention. When her song slows and gets quiet, he puts a finger to his mouth in 'shh' before giving another look towards the hall. She seems to know what he's planning and looks down there too before nodding, stopping her song to be quiet. She'll be lookout while he grabs them some breakfast, both too hungry to wait for Auntie Ellie to come back with Blast-O Crunchies.

Damocles climbs up onto the counter on his hands and reaches, rumbling in concentration. He doesn't want to get up completely because then he wouldn't be able to jump back in his seat in time. It means that he still can't reach, the cookie plate just a bit away from his talons. If only he were bigger like the other kids! Dammit!

He feels his pants get tugged as Cassia trills, but he wants the cookies too much to give up. If only he can grab one and quickly eat it, it'll be worth it if Kunkle gets mad. And can Kunkle really get too mad if Damocles is really, really hungry?

Kunkle makes that strange rumbling sound like daddy sometimes makes when he says that his throat itches. From his boo boo, he and mommy say, but Damocles doesn't know how a boo boo can make someone make funny sounds, or why Kunkle can make it too. Maybe it's just an adult thing and Damocles will be able to do it too when he gets to be a big boy. Still, when he hears his kunkle's sort of cough sound, Damocles looks over and smiles, hoping it'll get Kunkle to forgive him and not be mad. He'll understand, Damocles thinks, because he gets hungry too. Everyone does, and Damocles is just trying to do whatever he can to reach some breakfast.

"We do not climb on counters, Damocles," Kunkle says as he comes over, tying his sleeping jacket like mommy and daddy wear sometimes.

"But-"

Kunkly just shakes his head, pointing to Damocles' chair as he stands on the other side of the counter. "Sit. I will prepare something to eat."

He's close enough to push the plate over, and Damocles doesn't understand why he doesn't, but does as he's told and sits hard back in his seat. He tightens his mandibles at being caught and punished for only wanting to eat, but Kunkle doesn't change his mind about the cookies. He even does what he's not supposed and  _takes them away_. How is that fair?

Damocles frowns and pokes his tongue out at his kunkle's back when the older turian moves to the fridge and starts to pull out small packages. Anger quickly going away, the young boy sits up more in his seat to try and get a better look at the things Kunkle now puts on the table. When Kunkle turns around to mess with some machine like the one mommy and daddy have to make hot drinks for their breakfasts, Damocles reaches for the closest package and looks to try and figure out what it is. He can't read the big words, yet, but he still tries to guess what it is by it's looks.

It's light purple and it smells when he opens the package, put he still can't figure out what the thin slices are. Whatever it is, he really hopes Kunkle doesn't give him any.

"Damocles," Kunkle says as he takes the piece of stinky stuff and puts it on a plate. "You have to be patient."

Before Damocles can tell Kunkle waiting is boring, Cassia sits up in her chair, looking over the weird food excitedly. "Can I help? Pwease?"

Kunkle nods with a low hum and pushes over an empty plate. "You may." He then pushes the third plate over to Damocles. "Here. You should learn to prepare yours as well."

"Okay," Damocles agrees, wanting to have fun like his sister. Maybe he may even get to play with the stove. He sure hopes so.

"First, we must crisp our bread." Kunkle opens up a bread box and removes three slices, setting them in the little oven mom and dad have at home. They say it's for 'when you don't want to preheat a huge oven', but Damocles just says it's a baby oven. "Next, I will cut the orions and marroits we will need."

"What're those?" Cassia gets up in her seat to lean over the counter with her hands to try and see into the container he opens, but a look from Kunkle makes her squeak and sit back down. "Sorry."

"It is alright. Just try not to repeat it. We must keep our cooking surfaces clean, and it is dangerous for you to be leaning over me while I cut these." He leans down to grab a flat mat and lays it down before setting two round foods on it, one purple and the other a darker blue. Next, Kunkle grabs a knife from the counter behind him and starts to peel the dark blue one.

"Can I do it?" Damocles wants to be a big boy, and what better way to show it by cutting up stuff?

"No, you may not." Kunkle's voice is stern, but his face isn't mad when he looks up from cutting the stinky food. "Knives are dangerous, and you are still too young. You will hurt yourself."

"Nuh uh."

"It is not up for debate." Now Kunkle looks more mad, and Damocles flicks his mandibles once before crossing his arms in a huff. "No pouting, Damocles. It is for your safety."

"Kunkle," Cassia says, most likely trying to distract before Damocles can get into trouble. He and his sister always watch each other's backs that way. "What's that?" She points at the food their kunkle is cutting.

"It's a marriot, a vegetable."

She makes a gag sound as Damocles growls in grossness. "Yuck!" they both say, looking to each other and shaking their heads in agreement that, yes, that is so gross. Mommy and daddy always make them eat vegetables, but for breakfast?

"You have not even tried it," Kunkle says with a huff and continues to cut the food, now on the purple vegetable.

Giving up the fight because Kunkle would just say he wins, Damocles waits for the older turian to set the knife in the sink once he's finished with it before reaching for a piece of this supposed good vegetable. Sniffing it, he makes a face and pokes his tongue out at the sourish smell before holding it to his sister. She takes a smell and jerks away, poking her tongue out too at the smell. Quickly, Damocles throws it back over to the cutting mat before Kunkle can see them.

The baby oven dings and their kunkle takes out the pieces of bread, laying them on the cutting mat. When Cassia reaches for one, he takes her head. "Not yet, Cassia. It is still hot. It will burn you."

"But you touched it."

"My hands are tougher, and I can use my longer talons to handle them so I do not have to touch it with my fingers." He holds up his hand to show talons long like their daddy's. When looking at his own hand, Damocles sees how little his own five are and juts out his bottom mouth plate. How he wishes he could be more like the grown ups. "Now, let it cool," Kunkle says as he turns back to the hot water machine.

He reaches into the counter and pulls down three mugs, putting them down before grabbing a box. It looks a lot like the one mommy has for her morning tea, but the outside is a different color. Maybe because it's for turians?

Kunkle takes out three little baggies on strings and puts one in each cup before pouring the smokey water into them. Instantly, the smell of tea that reminds Damocles of his mom fills the kitchen and he can't help the soft chitter of sadness. Even with a different box, it smells just like the tea his mommy makes every morning, all that's missing is Kunkle pouring in some sweet tasting milk stuff. Damocles really wishes she and daddy aren't gone too long. It's just not the same to talk on the screens.

Their kunkle sets the smoking mugs on the counter, one for him and one for Damocles and Cassia each. They know not to touch them after being told all morning not to touch hot stuff, but their kunkle didn't say anything against looking, so Damocles waits until the older turian is taking things out of packages to lift up. Leaning on his hands, he looks down through the clear smoke and feels the heat on his plates as he stares into the darkening liquid.

Cassia reaches for hers with two hands and looks into it, lowering her head to sniff right at the liquid. "Kunkle? Why did you give us tea?"

"To drink?" Kunkle lifts a brow plate and looks at them like he's confused. "You will have to wait until it cools to drink, though."

"Can I have chocolate milk, instead?" When she asks, Damocles nods.

"Yeah. I don't wanna drink tea."

Kunkle stares at them, mandibles fluttering before he looks down at the tea. "I do not have any chocolate or milk. You will have to wait until Ellie returns."

"Okay," Cassia agrees, sitting, but Damocles is thirsty enough to try his tea.

Blowing like mommy does on her own morning tea, Damocles then uses both hands to lift the heavy cup to his mouth. It's still a bit too hot, but the worst part is the taste. He gags and drops the mug on the counter enough to make some jump out and spill, holding out his tongue to try and get the yucky taste off it. Getting mad at the stupid stuff, he pushes the mug further away and sits back in his seat to get as far from it as possible.

"I take it you did not enjoy it." His kunkle seems a bit happy when Damocles shakes his head and picks up both glasses, setting them on the other counter. "How about some water until Ellie arrives?"

Cassia and Damocles look at each other again. Neither of them really wants plain water, but it's a lot better than the gross tea, so they both look back to Kunkle and nod. "Okay," Cassia says with a rumble and wiggle on her seat to get to the edge without falling so she can help make their strange breakfast.

Kunkle fills two glasses with water and sets them before Damocles and his sister. "Now. It is time to prepare our meals before our crostini become cold."

"What's a crossinty?" Cassia tilts her head as Kunkle lays a piece of the round toast on each of their plates.

"Cros-tin-i," he says slowly with a purring sound. "It is a toasted bread."

"Like toast?" Knuckle nods softly to Damocles' question. "Why not call it toast?"

" Because-" He puffs a long breath before shaking his head. "It does not matter now. Come, let us each prepare our own." Motioning the smelly light purple stuff, he takes a slice. "Each take a piece of farh - fish."

Damocles and his sister giggle at what they know was their kunkle changing his big and silly words into something more right. Chirping now that they are paying more attention to make their breakfast like him, they each reach for a slice of the smelly fish and lay it on their bread after he does. Why will they eat fish for breakfast? It sounds like a game where Kunkle is trying to dare them into eating something weird.

"Next, slather on some…" He stops when they watch him open a small tub of something white and creamy. "Put some of this on it." He offers a baby knife with a round edge and first Cassia scoops out a big scoop, then Damocles, but Knunkle puts a much smaller bit and smears it. Damocles, wanting to do this right, just uses his fingers. "No using your hands. Here." Kunkle hands him a throw away towel. "Wipe your hands and, Cassia, use this," he says as he gives her the baby knife.

As she does so, Kunkle lays out some of the gross vegetables in three piles. He waits until she hands back the baby knife before handing them each their pile. "Place these atop in a neat line." Damocles just drops his on top, wanting to hurry up and eat. Knunkle sighs, but doesn't make him do it right while Cassia takes her time to make hers pretty. "Now, salt and pepper." Kunkle shakes a round thing over his, then their breakfast toasts, and tiny flecks of white and black fall on top. "We are done."

Looking at the supposed breakfast, Damocles flicks his mandibles. He doesn't know what it is, but it certainly isn't breakfast. "The fuck?" he says, much like his mommy when she's really confused, and Cassia gasps softly at the bad word.

"You aren't supposed to say that," she whispers and looks to Kunkle.

Kunkle rubs his forehead before dropping his hand on the counter. "Perhaps this is not quiet appropriate for the two of you to eat."

"I want Blast-O Crunchies." Damocles pushes his plate away, wriggling his nose at the smell. "I don't want this."

"Me either." His sister does the same, crossing her arms and chuffing.

Their kunkle lets a deep, rumbling breath out before checking his omnitool and saying something quietly to himself like some adults seem to do. It's really strange, but maybe they have to say aloud what they think to get things right? Damocles isn't sure, but he doesn't want to have to talk aloud and be made fun of for talking to himself by the other kids. He hopes it doesn't come with growing up or he'd never want to get older.

Kunkle flicks his mandibles once before starting to clean up the packages off the counter. "Ellie should be home soon… I hope," he says softly. Probably to himself again.

When he starts to throw the food away in the trash, Damocles hears the door opening. He gets excited, hoping it's mommy and daddy, but quickly stops his happy purring because he knows that's stupid. Mommy and daddy said they'd be gone awhile, and even Cassia seems sad now, so he knows they aren't here.

Instead, Auntie Ellie comes into the big room and over to the kitchen, smiling wide and pretty. "I got breakfast!" She sets the bags down as Cassia trills in excitement, and even Damocles starts to feel a little better. Maybe with a tasty breakfast, he can start to feel happy and not so sad about mommy and daddy being gone. "I see you woke up Uncle Arcan-" She stops and looks around the room. When she sees the counter, she starts to laugh.

Damocles doesn't know why, but Kunkle seems to as he huffs and crosses his arms. "I do not see what is so entertaining."

"Well, for starters." She's chuckling now as she takes the water glasses and pours the water in the sink. "We don't drink  _water_ for breakfast!"

"They did not want the tea."

"Even worse!" She smiles and leans against Kunkle, laying her head on his shoulder before she walks over to the counter. Starting to take out the cereal, milk, and some other food stuff out of the bags, she chuckles. "Second? We definitely need to teach you what to serve children for breakfast."


	10. Friend 2/2190

After the class spent time learning their letters with Miss EDI's computer person watching and helping, Miss EDI's body stepped into the room. More kids were starting to come to school and into Cassia's class, and, each time, Miss EDI would come in and show them to the class. Today, she came in with a little batarian girl at her side.

"Everyone," Miss EDI says and everyone stops, "I would like to introduce Gelta, your newest classmate." She looks down to the girl and smiles. "Don't be shy, Gelta. Please sit."

Miss EDI brings Gelta to the desk beside Cassia and holds out a hand. Gelta takes her backpack over to her desk and sits. Ducking her head shyly, she starts to play with her sleeve. Cassia smiles, purring at the smaller girl and new classmate to not be angshush, but Gelta must not hear her. When Cassia shifts to lean closer to whisper not to be scared, EDI stands before the class with her hands behind her back.

"Class, you have done well with your studies. It is now lunch period. Please put away your materials and retrieve your lunches in an orderly fashion."

One by one, Cassia watches as the others stand and walk to their cubbies, pulling out all sorts of cool lunch boxes. She waits, though, because she doesn't want too many kids to be around the small area where their cubby holes are. It would be very crowded and she knew Damocles didn't like to be around so many kids, and he always went with her. He liked to go with her and get their lunches together and she didn't mind waiting, so she always stayed at her desk until there were only one or two kids left at the cubby corner.

They learned in the beginning how to be polite and patient because Miss EDI said they could get hurt pushing to get to their stuff first. 'Your lunches are not capable of escaping,' she had said and they laughed, but still learned how to be 'courteous' like EDI showed them. And it didn't just mean that they had to be nice getting their lunches, either, but being nice the whole day. Like when they would leave their desks and eat on the large play mats together.

"Come on, Gelta," Cassia says with a smile and pushes her seat back from her desk and stands. When the girl looks to her in confusion, Cassia points to the cubbies where not a lot of other kids are now that they have all gotten their lunches and gone to sit down and eat. "We can show you where to put your bag."

Gelta looks from Cassia to the cubbies and back before she finally nods and stands. She is quiet as Cassia leads the way towards the cubbies, skipping and sometimes looking back to make sure both Gelta and her brother are following. When they come up to the cubby holes on the wall, Cassia looks for an empty one, grinning and chirping when she sees one not far from Damocles' and her own.

"Here!" She points and bounces on her toes. "You can be right next to us." She flickers her mandibles as Gelta looks at the hole, holding her backpack tight. "And Miss EDI can give you a name tag too." She tilts her head with Gelta still doesn't want to put her stuff away. "Don't be angshush, Gelta. It's okay."

"What's angshush?" The girl's eyes blink a few times. "I'm not angshush."

"Mommy and daddy says it's okay to be." Cassia grins. "Angshush means to be uncomfortable, but  _not_ scared," she adds with a stern frown and shake of her head, remembering the conversation they had about the difference.

"Okay," Gelta says softly and nods, giving her cubby hole another stare before opening it and pulling out a small bag. Zipping it up, she pushes her backpack into the hole and pats it into place.

Cassia gives a nod in approval before turning to her cubby and pulling out her Blasto lunch box. She doesn't have to open her backpack for it because mommy doesn't pack them together, so she doesn't take as long as Gelta did and is ready even before Damocles even though his lunch box is outside too. She supposes it has to do with her excitement to show Gelta around, but, then again, her brother has always been a slow poke.

When he finally gets his out, Cassia grabs Gelta's hand and pulls her along. "Now we all sit down to eat and then we can play," she explains, pointing out the room. "I like to color, but you can play with the toys or on the number computers. Those are always busy, but that's okay. Mommy and daddy let me play those when we get home." She looks back to her brother who's quiet like always. "Right?"

He nods, eyes on his lunchbox, and Gelta looks around, her mouth open. Cassia sure hopes she's just as excited about her first day as Cassia was. She always thought school would be fun and she was right, still not finding one thing bad about it. Damocles doesn't like it too much, but he's always pretends to be grumpy, so Cassia doesn't believe him when he says he hates coming to school.

The only thing Cassia doesn't like is when the other kids look at them like they do now, their eyes saying to 'stay away'. Everyone sits in little groups of friends, but they scoot over to take up the little spaces between them wherever Cassia, her brother, and Gelta could really sit. It hurt to see so many other kids not want to really make friends or let Cassia and her brother join their circles because they were 'different', but mommy and daddy are right when they say that Cassia and Damocles don't need them.

'Fuck them,' mommy always says. 'Being an ignorant asshole is obviously genetic.'

Cassia doesn't know what that all means, but she thinks the same. Even if mommy uses bad words to say it. She still understands and many times, just to make the other kids mad, just makes a place to sit with them. She likes the faces they make and when they stand up and leave, but she knows Damocles doesn't, so she doesn't always do it. She also doesn't want to hurt Gelta's feelings by making the kids give her mean faces either.

So she leads the others to her and Damocles' corner of the mats by the desks and sits. It's the last place anyone in the class wants to sit, but it lets Cassia have no one behind them to stare at their backs, so she thinks 'their loss' - as mommy and daddy would say. She, but mostly her brother, doesn't like it when the others can make faces behind his back or have others where he can't see them, so that makes this spot even more perfect. Hopefully Gelta likes it too, because she would hate to see her first friend be like the others.

"Um…" Purring when Gelta starts to talk to her, Cassia looks to her new friend. "What did… What's in your lunch?"

Grinning, Cassia unsnaps the locks on her lunchbox and peeks in. She squeals when she sees her favorites inside. "I got Blasto Crunchies!" She shows her friend when Gelta seems confused, and sets it aside to dig for more treasure. "And a louza sandwich. And fruit punch juice." She lifts out her final snack, a small pear. "And a pear."

"Yuck," Damocles says, never liking when mommy gives them fruit or vegetables in their lunches, but always hungry enough to eat it. Cassia thinks that he's just pretending to hate them all the time because he always seems so happy when he eats them.

"What's a pear?" Gelta looks at the green, weird shaped fruit in Cassia's hand.

Cassia's eyes widen. Who never ate a pear? That's crazy! "It's… Here." She smiles and offers the fruit. "Try it."

Gelta stares at it for a moment before reaching for it. She looks at it in her hand before taking a big bite with her pointy teeth. She squeaks at the juice that drips over her chin and Cassia giggles, smiling and flickering her mandibles. When Gelta hands it back, Cassia takes her own bite. It's not the order she usually eats lunch, but there's no point when they already started eating on the fruit.

"Do you life if?" she asks with her mouth full, mommy and daddy not around to tell her to swallow before talking like at home. Rubbing her mouth with her arm, she offers the pear back for Gelta to eat some. "I really like how it's all scratchy on my tongue."

Gelta nods and smiles with her bite of food in her mouth. "Thanf youf." She hands back the pear and Cassia smiles back.

"You're welcome!" Taking a big bite, she points to her friend's bag. "Whaf dif you gef?"

Gelta bites her lip and shrugs, ducking her head. Cassia doesn't understand why she's shy about it, but doesn't be nosy like she's been told. Instead, she lays out her lunch in a line of how she'll eat them and keeps an eye on her friend. She's just too curious why Gelta is shy, so she breaks the no nosiness rule, but at least she doesn't talk. That shouldn't get her in trouble if no one catches her.

She's confused by how small Gelta lunch is. All her friend's mommy packed was one sandwich and a juice box. No treats or chips or anything. Did her mommy forget to pack everything?

"Is that your lunch?" Too late, Cassia remembers that something like that sounds nosy and she rumbles in apology. Especially when she sees Gelta's sad frown. "I'm sorry. Maybe your mommy didn't want you to get stuffed?" She gasps in excitement and bounces on her butt. "Maybe your mommy wants you to have a big, fancy dinner!"

But Gelta doesn't seem to be as happy at the idea as Cassia and picks at the baggie of her sandwich. She shakes her head. "This is just what daddy always makes." She chews on her lip, sniffling softly. "We don't have money for fancy stuff, he says."

Realizing she just upset her only friend, Cassia trills as her eyes widen in shock. "I'm sorry!" Her shout makes Gelta jump and stare back with wide eyes, and Cassia grabs her pear. "Here. We'll share," she says with a big grin, purring.

"I…" Gelta looks to the pear and Cassia shakes it in her hand to get the other girl to grab it. Finally, Gelta takes it, her eyes getting shiny and sniffling.

Cassia frowns at making her sadder, chirping softly. "I'm sorry. Don't be sad."

Making a strange gurgle sound, Gelta wipes at her eyes before shaking her head. "I'm not sad." She smiles softly. "Thank you."

That makes Cassia grin as she purrs. Remembering to be polite, she nods and says, "You're welcome." Grabbing a napkin from her bag, she lays it out and opens her bag of Blasto Crunchies. Without a word, she pours out the pink colored chips onto the napkin and pushes them into a neat pile. "There." She smiles at Gelta, mandibles spreading.

Just when Gelta is going to say something, Damocles scoots closer and pours his bag on the napkin too, the pile too big for it now. Cassia clicks in surprise and looks at her brother, but he doesn't say or do anything but sit back and open his juice cup. As he sips from the cup's special spout made for their mouths, he looks to her, and she nods in thanks to him sharing too.

Their friend chews on her finger nail a moment before reaching out and taking a chip. She looks at it like she's never seen one before - which is crazy to never have a Blasto Crunchie - before biting off the corner. Chewing, the two eyes on one side close some before she smiles and nods, humming happily. She pops the chip in between her lips and tilts her head back and forth as she chews the rest of it.

That makes Cassia, and she does the same, grinning at her friend. When Gelta grabs her juice box, poking the top with her straw, Cassia grabs her sandwich and pulls open the butterfly covered box it's in. It opens with a pop and she hums at the tasty smell that always comes out whenever mommy or daddy packs their lunch. Flicking her mandibles, she pulls out the louza sandwich and takes a big bite, giggling when she feels the coldness of the sauce on her chin.

Gelta laughs and points to her chin. "You got some here," she says before pointing to her own chin, her own sandwich in her other hand.

Cassia rubs her chin with her sleeve and grins in 'there, all better'. Looking to Gelta's sandwich, she sees a greenish colored piece of something on top of a lighter brown. She hums, curious, and tilts her head, pointing. "Can I try?" She offers her own food. "You can have some of mine."

"Okay," Gelta says happily and leans over so they can swap sandwiches. When she takes a bite, her face squishes up and she rushes to hand it back. "Ew!"

Damocles laughs from behind Cassia as the little turian takes her time chewing the food from Gelta's own sandwich. It has a funny taste, like when daddy cooks food too much and it turns out black and crunchy. And sweet. She hands back the sandwich and takes her own, happy to have it back. Even if it isn't gross, she still likes hers more.

"I like mine," Gelta says as she takes a bite, smiling. "If's beffer."

"Nuh uh." Cassia grins and lifts her chin. 'Stubborn', she's heard daddy and mommy call it. "Ours is."

Gelta giggles and shakes her head before grabbing her drink and sipping. "How come you have more fingers than the others?"

Cassia hears her brother's grunt, always upset when the other kids ask stuff like that, but she doesn't get mad at Gelta. She's just curious, Cassia knows, and it's not like she's calling them names or making fun. At least, not yet. It hurts when the other kids start to do that.

"Because our mommy is a human," Cassia says, purring as she holds up her hand before pointing to her feet, even though her shoes only have the one big toe for their feet. "And three toes!"

"Cool!" Gelta holds up her own hand, grinning with all her pointy teeth. "Your hands are like mine!"

Cassia nods happily as she takes the last bite of her sandwich, wiping her hands off on her skirt. "Wanna count our Crunchies?"

Wanting to practice her numbers, Cassia starts to whisper the ones she knows to herself as she picks up chips of the same size and puts them into three piles. This way, they can all have the same amount and, when they get to the smaller pieces, they can count those too. Gelta doesn't count, but she watches, so Cassia talks louder because maybe her friend doesn't know numbers yet.

"...eight… nine… ten!" Cassia grins and looks to her friend before dropping her head and grabbing another chip for the first pile. "One… two…"

"Three… f… four!" When Gelta looks to her, eyes wide and chewing on her lip, Cassia purrs and nods. That makes her friend smile, and the two count the Blasto Crunchies until there are no left in the big pile. "That was hard," Gelta says, taking one of her chips and chewing it with loud crunches. "How dof yof knowf thaf?"

"Miss EDI taught us. Right, Damo?" Cassia nudges her brother as he scoots to her side to reach his own pile. He hums and nods, eating more than one chip at a time. "Miss EDI will teach you too," She says back to their friend. "And you can learn lots of other stuff too." Turning, she points out towards the main room on the other side of their classroom. "There are even big kids' classes we will get to go to soon."

"Cool! My brother is in one." But Gelta then frowns. "I don't think he likes school."

"Why?"

"People don't like us."

"Why?"

"Because," Gelta says, stopping to put her chip back on the pile, chewing her lip, "people don't like batarians."

"Why?" When her friend shrugs at her question, ducking her head, Cassia looks around the room for the one person who would know. "Miss EDI!" She raises her hand, bouncing on her butt to get Miss EDI's attention. When their teacher approaches, Cassia asks, "How come people don't like batarians?"

"Very good question." Miss EDI smiles down to them and gets down to sit on her knees next to them, between Cassia and Gelta. "The batarian people have many facets-"

Damocles raises his hand. "What's a fashit?"

"Fa-cet," Miss EDI says slowly, like when teaching a new word. "It means there are many different kinds of batarians. Not physically, but with differing views." She motions Cassia. "You like the color blue, but you," she adds, pointing to Damocles, "like the color red. You are still the same, but different individuals on the inside. The batarian people are no different. Although, the main culture of the batarian people is not one that Council law approves of."

Cassia frowns, still confused. "Why?"

"Because it is bad. But," she says sternly, holding up a finger, "that does not make all batarians bad."

"Just some?" Damocles chews one of his chips slowly and Miss EDI nods.

"Just as there are bad and good people in any species, there are good and bad batarians. However, the majority often creates a negative view in the eyes of the galaxy." She frowns. "Such is the outcome for those of the batarian people who do not agree with the negativity of the majority."

Gelta grabs Miss EDI's sleeve and tugs to get her attention. "I'm not a bad batarian, right?"

Miss EDI smiles and lays her hand on Gelta's. "No, Gelta. You and your family are not." She pats Gelta's hand before standing. "Now, no more delving into galactic politics. That is a matter for the more advanced classes."

"Miss EDI?" Gelta looks up to their teacher. "Daddy talks of a war when I was still little…"

Miss EDI is quiet a moment before nodding once. "Yes. The Alliance wanted retribution for an illegal act perpetrated by the Hegemony. However, the Council stepped in before any actual retaliation on the Alliance's part. The matter was then handled in a nonviolent matter. It saved many lives on either side of the potential war." She smiles to them. "You should finish your meals. It is almost time for the recreational period."

Cassia knows what that means and grins, trilling and looking to her friend. "And then we can color!"


	11. Birthday 5/2190

Without the Normandy crew collective, Garrus knows he and Jane would have never managed to put together the massive celebration grounds for their twin's birthday party. How in the galaxy they managed to overcome the crucible of preparation in the short time of Damocles and Cassia being in school for today, Garrus will never know, but he has the rest of their massive extended family to thank. Without their help, this intended surprise party would be nothing more than a few tables, haphazardly thrown together decorations, a cake made by some stranger in the compound, and two very exhausted parents.

_To fight battles against Reapers is nothing compared to this undertaking. We. Are. Insane. But it's worth it for them, to give them a birthday like in the vids and one to brag to those damn kids who continuously hurt them with their callous words and action, their feigned ignorance they, no doubt, learned from their parents._

If he could find out who exactly taught these children, he'd make them pay, but he can't unleash Archangel just off of assumption. Without proof of their teachings of prejudices and mistrust, he can do nothing but hope his children can learn to ignore and persevere. Well, that, and maybe give those parents that work directly under him the contracts from the bottom of the barrel, as the human saying goes. Just as he can't prove their actions, they cannot prove the intent of his own.

Stopping on his trek to grab plastic cups from the house, he stands up on the deck to gaze down the beach at their party grounds. Garrus can't help the warm purr that rolls through his chest as he smiles at what their Normandy families has managed. He doubts any vid could stack up to it now that he sees the whole setup from this distance.

Using leftover supplies from the construction of the Wraiths' agricultural sector's construction of a set of greenhouses, the group designed and built a pavilion. It wasn't as tall as the actual greenhouses, by any means, but it rose high enough above their heads to allow the cool air from the sea slide beneath its risen roof without creating a cyclone effect. The top was made of the tinted glass of the greenhouse walls to allow the sun's bright light to shine through while still protecting them from its rays hitting them directly. He knows Jane is more than thrilled with that particular fact as it means she doesn't have to use the strongest of her protective creams - the one that leaves her feeling 'slimy and sticky'.

Beneath the pavilion decorated with balloons and brightly colored streamers, they had set up the massive amount of food from every species of their family that knew how to actually cook anything. Those who didn't usually found something for Harrot to import, but it was easy to tell that the quality wouldn't be as good as a personal preparation. Preparation that, much to his frustration, too place majorly in his own kitchen. Too many people for his own house all crammed into one kitchen, bustling about and vying for the cooking appliances, ran him away pretty damn quick and left him thanking those that used another of their Virmire stationed family member's home. He still doesn't know how Jane managed to wrangle everyone inside into an organized machine of cooking.

That had left most of the men of the Normandy family to set up outside, which ended up being much less stressful with them all breaking into groups with their own chain of command, with himself being at the very top. It was his design for the grounds that they were following, after all, so his direction was needed to make sure it all came out as he planned and imagined. This setup would allow the best experience for the twins with little fuss or confusion of where everything was.

The organization he set up would be needed if the estimate of how many children that'd be involved was anywhere close to correct. The Normandy family had grown since last they were all together in one place.

Garrus watches as, one by one, the chefs of this party still trailed out of the house, down the deck's steps, and out towards the party grounds with more and more food. A part of him wonders just how they were going to eat everything and how much would go to waste in the end, but another part merely laughs and reminds him just who he's dealing with. Grunt, alone, could eat a good amount of that food, and that's not taking the huge amount of biotics in their group and how much they tended to eat - especially when active and spending their energy stores even without actually using their biotics. Now that he thinks about it, he considers the fact that they may not have  _enough_.

Also down below, both in the shade of their cover and out in the sun-heated sand, a group of various members of their family set up what Garrus likes to consider as entertainment for the kids that'll be at this party because he's pretty damn sure they won't stand around and chat over drinks like the adults. That just won't stand.

Out on the beach, James, Bray, Kenneth, and Grunt lay out a large tarp that, supposedly, will turn into a playground of slides, a trampoline room, and a 'ball pit' when filled with air. Zaeed, however, merely leans on one of the air pumps, sipping a lemonade and being completely unhelpful - his job apparently to work the pump once the flattened material is laid out appropriately. Bray seems less than amused at the man's 'help', if his feigned slip and bump into Zaeed that caused his lemonade to spill all over his shirt is any indication. Despite the scowl he gave at getting his loose shirt covered in tropical flowers and waves wet, Zaeed soon laughs with the others and tosses what little remains in his glass on Bray in retribution.

Legacy, along with Rym and Kaidan, sets up a small mat that'll light up to the tone and beats of music they'll pipe through the nearby radio. The radio itself is Rym's making, while the floor tiles' design belongs to Legacy after he did some research on 'children's birthday themed party activities', as he called it. If Legacy knows what he's doing -  _What am I thinking? Of course he does_  - then the tiles will prove to have no problem with even the combined weight of all the krogan in their family. There is nothing the few kids who'll be using it can do to damage it, which alleviates quite a bit of Garrus' worries over their safety.

Out towards the water, Traynor collects shells for some game she has planned as Poe and Kasumi start to make sand sculptures that'll get the kids' attention and interest into following suit. What they're making is something Garrus can't quite determine from this distance, but it's better that they've left out the sand castle building toys - and numerous of them - out within reach. Whatever the women are making aside, the children will at least know how to play in the sand.

Setting out beach chairs in their own versions of swimming suits, Jack and Cortez have deemed themselves the 'life guards' of the beach. Garrus tried to tell them that parents will probably be there to help their own children swim and play in the water, but they - Jack in particular - insisted that they be there to watch over even the adults. The idea that full grown men and women will suddenly fall face first into the waves, after he considers it, is not really something he wants to lead to disaster on such a joyous day, so he lets them take their places on the edge of the water.

In true krogan fashion, Wrex and Grunt work on building a fire pit they'll later use to make their krogan dishes as Sephone watches on. Garrus knows her enough to know she's there for the chance to start the fire with the near explosive ignitor, but if Wrex and Grunt are okay with her presence, then Garrus won't bother ruining her fun by running her off to do something more productive.

Traynor seems to have enlisted the help of Sidonis, Ilden, Kolyat, and - shockingly - Arcanus to stock up their bar because of course they need to have a way of entertaining the adults. Party games certainly won't do it and, if they're drunk enough, Garrus may even get others to join in on the children games. That'd be something to see and a big reason as to why he will be wearing his visor to this party. Recording moments, even embarrassing for the others, is better left to be done with the participants are unaware. Makes it more authentic that way.

Looking towards the end of the beach opposite to Jack and Cortez's swimming arena, Garrus catches his dad and sister setting up a shooting ground while Ashley 'checks their armament' and Elihu and Chakwas most likely worrying about damages and preparing accordingly. Thankfully, they aren't actually planning to use the twin's air powered training weapons. Garrus made damn sure to remind his dad that not all the children who would be attending this party would already know gun safety, and he definitely didn't any accidents to spoil today's fun. Instead, his father merely scoffed at him with a chuckle and showed him the toy weapons he had brought with him intended to shoot foam 'bullets' that would suction to the targets a few paces away.

Anyone else not out on the beach preparing is either cooking the buffet inside, carrying whatever's already been made out to clear more counter space, or at another location at the moment to show up towards the big event in order to save room. Those are the smarter of the Normandy family, Garrus considers, as he takes a large platter of cookie-looking treats from Tali.

"I got it," he says before chuckling and motioning the kitchen through the open deck doors with his hand holding the bag of plastic cups. "Unless you want a break?"

Tali chuckles that high, sweet sound that's become more frequent since the stresses of the war had ended years ago and she's become more used to her position as quarian Admiral. "Have you seen it in there?" She jerks a thumb back over her shoulder and her eyes narrow in a grin. "Keelah, it's worse that the Flotilla."

He laughs and tilts his head in 'join me' before taking the stairs down from the large sun deck. As he walks through the soft, fine sand down to the others, he hums in delight at the warmth against his bare feet. Mention of the Flotilla - even if it's far from the overcrowded living quarters of before the war and now just a means of travel or building materials when disassembled - makes him wonder just how the quarians could ever live without the ability to feel the sensation of the sun on their skin.

He once had the mind to never feel sympathy for a species he deemed 'deserved' the isolation because of their mistakes, but knowing Tali has changed him. He was shown the truth, saw with his own eyes how a misunderstanding had changed their lives for hundreds of years, and now knows just how blind he truly was. He can only thank Tali for understanding, taking his passive aggressive insults with stride, and forgiving his ignorance.

"Hel-lo-o! Virmire to Garrus!" Tali's voice snaps him out of his thoughts and, when he blinks away the daze, she laughs and nudges his side with an elbow. "Starting to zone out already? The party hasn't even started!"

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Just distracted. Hard to imagine how much the Normandy has grown." He waves a hand towards everyone spread out across the beach. "Nearly all of us have children of our own? Even you, Tali."

She scoffs and waves that off. "You make it sound like I actually gave birth to them." Still, she smiles up to him and, even without harmonics to express herself, Garrus can sense the pride and happiness in her voice. "The war left a lot of orphans, so what was I supposed to do? Just let everyone else help those kids?"

"You certainly could. You're still pretty young, Tali."

She snorts. "That's nothing. I'm no child, Garrus. Besides, being younger just makes me more fun."

Lifting a brow plate, he hums at that. "I sense something more in that statement," he says as they step under the shade of the pavilion and head towards the large table of food laid out and at the ready for an onslaught of hungry children.

"No," she says coyly, tilting her head to the side and tapping a finger on her helmet's audio output, "I don't think so."

"Uh huh." Garrus chuckles and sets down the platter of what he hopes is sweets, else whoever shares his confusion is bound to be disappointed. "Real convincing."

She chuckles, but doesn't bother to convince him of not hinting at his being older than she is. Instead, she turns her attention to the entirety of their setup. "This really is going to be great for them. I'm almost jealous."

Garrus rumbles an agreement as he cocks a hip and crosses his bare arms over his lightly clothed chest - taking full advantage of the relaxed mood of the celebration partnered with the clearest summer day. He looks over those of the family still preparing their stations up until the last minute and those now moving from their own to pick up the slack. "Do you think it's enough?"

Tali snorts and shoves him enough to make him shift his weight. "Quit worrying. They'll love it. Although…" He looks down to her at the tone in her voice and sees her look up at him, her eyes grinning. "Now you have to try and do better each time after."

He laughs. "Damn. I hadn't thought of that." Turning to the others, he cups his hands to his mouth, shouting, "Try not to make it too good! We have to one up this next year!"

That makes Tali scoff and swat his side, but the others seem to understand - or they just don't care to change all the work they've already put in, if Jack's obscene hand gesture is anything to go by. "Bosh'tet."

"I see you two are having your fun while everyone works."

Garrus turns to the sound of his wife's voice and purrs at the boxes in her hands wrapped in brightly colored designs and topped with elaborate bows. "Bringing out the presents already?" Knowing what that means, he frowns as panic of doing this right rises up his spine. "Is it really that late?"

"Yep," Jane says as she starts to pile the presents on a large, circular mat meant just for the stack of numerous gifts for the twins. "And we need to get these presents out before the kids show. EDI already sent a message ahead of time that they're raring to go."

Garrus moves to take the presents out of her hands, helping her stack them in preparation for the larger of the gifts to be put at the bottom of the sure to be large pile. The entire Normandy family really outdid themselves, and he knows that this will be the true beginning of the twin's birthday, not including the huge breakfast he helped Jane make for them. He's damn sure the kids at school have little love for their children thanks to their parents' taught prejudice or their wariness of that which is different in Damocles and Cassia and that they have done very little to give his children the feeling of celebration for today.

EDI could only do so much in her overall attempt to include everyone in every birthday of her students, but this party will blow any half-assed show from those damn kids out of the water, as humans say. Plus, he's pretty sure the appearance of kids who actually care for the twins suddenly arriving in the class out of the blue shifted the tables, the Normandy children bound to have outnumbered the others.

Jane had apparently enlisted Wrex and Grunt's help, as Garrus catches them heading back up the beach towards the house where they collected everyone's gifts for just the right moment just before the twins and rest of the Normandy children visiting the school. Those who had been helping Jane within the kitchen carry gifts or dishes of food out, as well, and Wrex and Grunt are soon followed by those on the beach not stuck in their prep. Garrus has hope that they just might be able to get everything set up in time.

He rushes back to the house and inside to where they have hidden the presents in the armory. The Normandy crew had arrived during the previous night and morning, giving Garrus and Jane the chance to hide their gifts in the locked armory as the twins slept while keeping the crew's arrival still a secret. He isn't sure if they have deduced that the presence of all the Normandy's kids at their school means the parents are around somewhere, but the twins will certainly be in for a surprise when they come home. If they aren't surprised by seeing their 'aunts and uncles' all together in one place after some time, then they'll definitely be shocked by the large party made just for them.

Carrying a large package with help from James, Garrus leads the way out and up the steps as he follows Wrex with his own large box and Grunt with two smaller - yet equally oversized - gifts on each shoulder. The parade of presents slows towards the steps leading down from the deck, but the multiple stair cases helps keep them from coming to complete stops that'll only leave those with the larger gifts tired and sore. Back at under the pavilion, Jane is using the help of the new arrivals to organize the jumble of presents in a way that will both give the best effect of 'a mountain of presents', but also stay within the edges of their mat. Garrus knows she's doing it because it's what he wants, that he'd much rather have organization even now than a thrown about pile, and he loves her all the more for going through the extra work it brings.

Crouching opposite of James, he sets the heavy box down and brushes off his hands. "Go ahead and see if they need anymore help," he tells the sleeveless shirt, swimming trunks bound Vega with a motion back towards the house. "I'm going to see if we can make this look better."James shrugs and starts the trek back up, leaving Garrus with his amused wife, her hand on her hip.

"Don't approve of my way?" she asks with a chuckle.

"It's not that. It's just…" He hums and rubs his fringe. "It's pretty?"

She laughs and shoves his chest before walking after James, shaking her head. He watches her go and smiles at the way she looks in her dotted swimming suit and skirt of loose, billowing fabric wrapped around her waist that blows in the salty wind. Even if she has to slather on that white protective cream from the sun, he absolutely loves when she wears these outfits so that she can take full advantage of the crystal blue waters. He did promise her a tropical beach life, after all, and he'd never tire of the sight of her appreciation and use of said vow.

Like some sort of divine intervention - he thinks that's the term - he manages to get the last present placed in its perfect place just as the others rush down the beach as if a Thresher were after them, Jane forcing James, Kaidan, and Steve help her carry a massive cake with her. Garrus has no idea how she managed to create a cake almost bigger than herself out of nothing but ingredients and determination, but she did, and the four of them are trying their very best not to throw all the hard work into the sand while trying to keep up with the others. Knowing this urgency must have a reason and coming up with only one such reason that could get even Javik running, Garrus closes the gap between him and the cake in order to help pick it up onto the centermost area of the food table before the kids can breach the perimeter.

"Almost," Jane whispers as the four men lift the precious dessert out of her hands and slowly onto the table, "Careful…"

"Kinda… making it hard… Lola." James grumbles as she flits from corner to corner of the platter, hovering over them and the cake. When they finally manage to slip their fingers out from beneath it, he lets out a deep breath and Garrus finally gets the chance to take a good look at it.

He's pretty sure that this is the first time many of them get to see the actual masterpiece Jane - and probably some of the others, Garrus has to imagine - put together. After all, once the children show, they won't have much time to take in the sights, let alone have a chance to take its appearance in when they're all digging into it like hungry varren.

Made into rising tiers, each slightly smaller than the one below, the cake is the color of space that can only be seen from the freedom of a ship. They haven't been able to take the twins off planet since arriving on Virmire in the beginning due to their fears of what the galaxy would do to a pair of children that shouldn't naturally exist, so he knows this will be a sight Damocles and Cassia have only seen in pictures and vids. It probably doesn't hurt either that Jane's covered the entire cake in little figures of Blasto and friends in their exploits. Among them, he even sees the Normandy and members of their own family and starts to realize this is probably what she's been working on late at night in the kitchen ever since they spoke about planning this day.

_Damn. She's been working on this cake for a while. At least two weeks._

"Everyone! The others are here!" Traynor calls out to them from the deck, looking back and motioning impatiently into the house.

With just as much hurry in their step as the others already gathering under the pavilion, Miranda, Aelia, Ellie, and Bakara carry their own dishes cooked at their own homes. Aelia still carries her and Lantar's infant son, Aeson, in a sling against her chest while Bakara holds a squirming krogan baby on her hip and a large dish in the other. Barely one, the two infants are yet old enough to join the others in Denaya's care center, but they don't seem to have distracted the women much if the cooked food they're laying out is any indication. Garrus is sure they'd probably be empty handed if two one year olds really did manage to distract the quadruple.

There isn't a moment to waste when Garrus looks up from setting down a plate of something gooey looking and at the sight of a sprinting Samantha Traynor coming down the beach. "They're here! They're here!" She pants as she leans down with her hands on her knees, catching her breath in the shade of the pavilion. "I just saw… EDI… walking up with the kids."

"Even the younger ones?" Miranda asks, probably sure she'd have to go gather Alexia from daycare herself.

Samantha nods and motions over her shoulder. "Yeah. EDI's got them."

"Alright, everyone!" Jane raises her hands to get their attentions. "You know the drill! EDI is going to have them cover their eyes and, when they open their eyes, we all yell 'Surprise!'" She adds flare by shaking her hands in the air before dropping her hands and glancing towards the house. "If you have any questions," she starts before looking back to the others, "Tough shit because they're here."

"Then shut the fuck up!" Jack whispers as the entire group turns to watch the house in anticipation.

Garrus' mandibles flutter in excitement for finally being able to throw the twins a real birthday party with all of their family present and an exuberant amount of ideas stolen from vids. Looking to Jane, he sees her practically vibrating, moments away from bouncing in place. He takes her hand and squeezes, feeling her do the same and bump her head against his arm before she audibling takes in a deep breath.

Before she can release it, Garrus catches sight of EDI leading a line of children of every species, eyes closed and holding hands, with Gelta's father and older brother close behind. The tension of excitement thickens and the feeling of the Normandy crew at his back feels like an actual weight as time seems to slow and the world fall silent. Garrus waits for EDI to look their way for confirmation once she has the children lined up at the banister of the deck so they can all see when given the cue. Once the AI's eyes turn completely to them, Garrus gives a nod with a feeling that he isn't the only one giving the go ahead.

Smiling, EDI calls out for everyone to hear, even if distantly this far out on the beach. "Open your eyes!"

Garrus is amused to see the recognition in each of the little ones' eyes as they snap open and take everything the second before every adult yells, some at the top of their lungs. "Surprise!"

The other children must have been told of the plans to actually throw some sort of celebration, as they quickly realize what's happening and turn to Damocles and Cassia. Garrus can't hear much above screams and laughs as the children crowd around his twins, most likely giving their own praises or congratulations. It lasts only a moment, but one that brings joyous grins to both of his children's faces, and then the entire stampede of children come rushing down the steps and out towards the festivities.

Children collide with parents for just a hug and shout of delight before quickly getting distracted and running off to explore the wonderful world of excitement before them. Even their ever affectionate daughter and son that tends to stick to Garrus or Jane's side like glue only stop for a quick, wide eyed gaze up at their parents in stunned happiness before running to join their friends.

Gelta's father and son approach with a pair of packages in each of their hands. Garrus had met Harak and his son, Jur'uk, before, but he never lets an opportunity to show the older man his utmost respect after raising Gelta pass him by. If not for his teachings to her against prejudices and, instead, to get to know someone as the person they are instead of what their species is, his daughter would never have the friend she has and Damocles wouldn't be showing the first signs of opening up. It's why, when the forest green man approaches, Garrus quickly helps by taking the present from his hands and offering one of his own in a shake of greeting.

"Harak. It's good to see you again." He rumbles and smiles as he releases Harak's hand and turns to his son, offering a hand to take his own gift from his hold. "And Jur'uk. How's school going?"

Jur'uk shrugs with a twitch of boredom in his attempted smile and Harak chuckles, patting his young teenage son with a hand and smile of his own. "He's still getting used to a more human way of teaching, I think. I have to hand it to EDI, though, they're learning some things I didn't even know at their ages."

Jane snorts as Garrus turns to stack up the presents, saying, "Yeah, that makes two of us." She smiles and nudges Garrus' side with a smirk. "Good to know it's just you who's the odd ball here with all your learnin's."

Harak laughs at her teasing tone before looking to his son. "How about you go see what's what? I'm pretty sure there's something you'll find entertaining around here." When his son looks around with hope, his father pats his shoulder gently. "Go on. No one's gonna blame you for being a kid." He winks two of his eyes when Jur'uk sends a child's glare of embarrassment at him. "Alright, alright. I promise not to tell any of your friends."

Jur'uk gives one more embarrassed huff before the urge to enjoy himself takes hold and he walks towards the beach with a feigned disinterest doing nothing to mask his obvious excitement. Garrus smiles with a rumble as Jane snorts and Harak chuckles, a sound of pride in his voice. Looking to him just as the man turns his eyes back to the more adult 'activities' under the pavilion, Garrus motions with his chin towards the bar area.

"Feel free to enjoy yourself. Pretty sure everyone else will be before the night's over."

"It wouldn't be a party without drinks, right?" Harak snorts and crosses his arms, taking the entire party in, from the children laughing and rushing in between different games, to the large buffet awaiting the moment said children realize they're starving. "You really outdid yourselves, here. I just figured all those big parties for kids were just the stuff of vids."

"Same here," Garrus agrees as he looks away from the view and to his mate. "We have Jane to thank for thinking up the idea."

She snorts. "Not after binging any vid that had to deal with kids' birthday parties." She returns the warm grin and reaches for his own hand. "And I didn't do all the boring organizing for the party grounds."

"Guilty." Purring, Garrus leans down to nuzzle her temple before standing straight and addressing their guest. "And don't think there's an age limit to any of the fun and games." He chuckles and motions Grunt taking full advantage of the 'shooting range', most likely using the goal of teaching the others without training how to fire the toy weapons when Garrus knows the truth. There's bound to be more members of the Normandy ready to do the same throughout the night.

"Good to know," Harak responds with a smile on his lips, not looking to Garrus or his wife. Finally dropping his arms, he nods once. "I'll see you two around. This all looks a hell of a lot more entertaining than working with irrigation output all day."

Jane laughs and smirks. "So…no swimming today?"

He laughs and shrugs as he starts to walk towards the edge of the water. "Never said I hated looking at water  _that_  much."

When he's out of earshot from the two of them, Jane leans her head against Garrus' arm. "What do you say to joining me out on the beach? I'd love to sink my toes in the sand with a drink in my hand." She chuckles when he makes a humming sound of amusement at her starting idea of 'fun'. "What? I want to have some drinks in me before the real party starts."

"And when would that be? Because I see a lot of children having a pretty good time," he says, motioning to their twins dancing - more like Cassia and Gelta dragging Damocles around on the dance tiles - in particular. The sight makes a warm thrum twist and turn inside his chest.

"Sure. But, with their presents? It'll be even more insane out here." She smirks playfully and waves her hand over entire scene. "Say goodbye to all your intricate planning once that happens."

That thought makes him itch, but he can stand the turmoil and destruction for the twins and to know that they're enjoying themselves. He's survived Christmas and the following nightmare of cleaning that brought, so there isn't anything a party outside could do to make the clean up worse. Besides, organizing a party is only fun if the twins ultimately get entertainment out of it, and they aren't ones to keep anything in any matter of calm and control. Not if their bedrooms are any indication.

"I can handle it," he says with a squeeze to her hand, turning to pull her with him towards the bar. Knowing her, she'll start with lightly alcoholic - maybe even nonalcoholic - this early in the night, and get more and more drunk throughout the night. He'll follow, though not as closely, as is the benefit of living mere steps from their party grounds, and because it's not everyday they can let loose and know there will still be someone of their family to help watch the herd of children. "Let's find something cool to drink, and then we can sit out on the beach." He smirks down to her. "I might even rub some of that sun lotion on your back."

"Sunscreen, Garrus. Sunscreen." Chuckling, she leans on the makeshift bar and smiles at Traynor. "One pinã colada and one…" She looks to him, brow raised.

"Uh, whatever the dextro equivalent is to whatever that is?"

Jane barks a laugh and leans over the glasses as Samantha starts to mix, grabbing a small paper umbrella and plucking it into his cowl. "You may not be too pleased with such a sugary drink."

He shrugs. "I'll manage. By the end of the night, I'll probably be too drunk to care how I get there."

She hums with a smirk and cocks her hip against the table, looking out towards the party. "Oh, hello…" That catches his attention and he looks back to see the twins running up. "What's up, my little monsters?"

"Mommy? Can we open presents?" Cassia wrings her hands together behind her back, her eyes hopeful. "Pwrease?"

Garrus lifts a brow plate and sees Jane glance his way from his peripheral, a smile of amusement on her lips. Granted, he knew this time would come during the night - and definitely not when he wanted it to - but right now is a bit early. Still, what is he to say?

"Uh…" He rumbles and rubs his neck, wondering if he should get this party moving as fast as the twins want. It  _is_ their birthday, right? "Sure… Okay."

Both children squeal and Cassia locks her hands together in front of her nose as Damocles turns and screams, "Daddy said 'okay', uncle Wrex!"

"Wrex," Garrus deadpans as Jane laughs. "Of course."

Wrex's laugh is booming as he grabs a large present from the bottom of the pile, one he had handled personally since bringing it in this morning. The organized pile topples over and Garrus groans, closing his eyes as Jane shoves a cold glass into his free hand. He's going to need more alcohol before this night is over.

Tugging him along, she shouts out across the beach in her booming 'Commander Shepard' voice. "Everyone! Stow it and get your fucking asses to the presents! It's time to open the gifts!"

The twins look bound to burst as they impatiently await the arrival of everyone, from the faster children to the much more calm and collected - but not by much - adults. Finally, when the last of their guests arrive, Wrex sets his single gift down with the gentlest of touch. That, along with his studious attention to this gift all day makes the plates along Garrus' spine tingle. Something isn't quite right, and he has a strong feeling that he isn't going to like what's in that box.

"Alright, hold up," His wife says, holding up her hands and stopping an unhappy pair of children from opening the gift sitting tauntingly close. "Garrus? Ready to record?" He lifts his hand to his visor and taps the record command, giving a nod in go ahead. "Great." Looking back to the twins, she smiles. "Tell us who it's from, first."

Damocles makes a sound like he's dying, but Cassia calms, gaining an all new sense of excitement from the chance to show her reading skills, and takes the paper tag from Wrex. She takes a moment to read it, her mouth moving as she sounds out the names. Once she seems to have it down, she rumbles, smiles, and leans closer to her brother.

"It says, 'From Wrex, Backara, Mordin, and Davark'," She says, looking up to Wrex for approval and he chuckles.

"Almost. Bakara and Davrak. The rest is good, little squirt." He pats her head and then rubs Damocles' small fringe with the flat of his hand, getting the same grunt of mock annoyance he always gets from the young turian/human child. "Now open the damn thing!"

Both of Garrus' children grin, mandibles spread wide and teeth showing. Together, they rip into the brightly colored paper of blue and purple stripes, talons making quick work of the flimsy barrier. Beneath the now tattered papers, there is a strange crate with large holes built in and a swinging door on one side. The two look at it with curiosity, heads tilting each way as they put their ears to the surface and, by the stunned, wide eyed look in their eyes and Wrex's massive grin, Garrus' fears come to fruition.

When the twins grab and pull open the door to their gift, none other than a varren puppy rolls out. The twins squeal, other children gasp in surprise, Jane grins, and Garrus groans at the thought of what this varren is going to do to his house he spent so long building as he watches the pup jump at his kids, licking and rumbling happily at them. Wrex, on his part, laughs boisterously at Garrus' expression and the turian wonders just how bad it'd be for the party if he strangled one of his best friends.

"Looks like we have another chance to potty train!" Jane grabs Garrus' waist and tugs him close to her side. "Aren't you excited?!"

"Thrilled," he answers, his voice flat and unamused, which only makes Wrex all the more entertained.

"Come on, Vakarian! Not too many turians get to raise a varren from a pup!" He grins wide, his eyes glinting in the sun. "And this one won't automatically take you for a chew toy this way."

Jane snorts and laughs as Damocles clings to the varren puppy and Cassia runs her hands over its back, curiously testing the short spines that haven't grown the length they'd be as an adult. Garrus has to admit that the look of them in complete awe of the animal - their new pet, he has to remind himself - helps soothe the irritation of knowing his future will involve raising a varren puppy, from teaching it not to make messes in the house to not bulldozing the house to the ground. Just when he was starting to think the twins were out of that phase on their own, now he has a puppy.

"Thank you, uncle Wrex!" the twins yell, their harmonics high and undulating with their complete amazement. "Thank you, aunt Bakara!"

Bakara smiles from the group where she holds their son, Davrak, on her hip and their daughter, Mordin's, hand in hers. With a nod, she waits until Jane replaces Wrex at the now fallen mountain of presents before saying, "You're welcome, little ones."

"Alright," Jane says as she crouches down to examine the blue striped varren puppy. "Aren't you a pretty little guy?" She smiles at their children as she pets the pup. "How about we have someone hold your new puppy while you open your other presents?"

Reluctantly, Damocles nods and lets Jane guide the varren to Wrex for the krogan family to hold. She then grabs a random box from the fallen pile and tilts the box to look at the tag. Chuckling at what she reads, she hands it to the twins. "Damocles. How about you try this one?"

Their son hums, but nods and pulls the box into his lap as his sister moves to sit next to him. Scooting to his side, Cassia watches and quietly converses with him as they sound out the names first.

"Zay-eed?" He looks up to Jane.

"Z-eye-eed," she corrects, crouching down and pointing at the label. "Sound this one out with me. Care."

Both children follow her lead. "Care."

"In."

"In. Uncle Zaeed and aunt Karin!" Recognition makes them grin as Jane nods and they reach for the red paper and pull at it. Ripping it open, they find two smaller boxes within. They frown in confusion, but then take one each.

Damocles manages to get his box open faster than his sister and chirps as he tilts his head at the book in his hand. He looks to Jane and holds it up, eye pleading. "Mommy?"

She hums and takes it, giving the clearly more mature book a look. Suddenly, she starts to laugh. "Zaeed, you ass." Chuckling, she hands it over to Garrus to take a look.

One look and Garrus knows full well what the old man did in order to get that sort of reaction. Lying in his hand is an 'Illustrated Manual to Explosive Armament Construction'. Sighing, he gives Zaeed a scolding look, but the damn man seems all too thrilled with himself to wither under Garrus' glare. He supposes that at least he doesn't have to worry about the kids' bomb making skills until they grow more accustomed to reading. Illustrated or not, he doubts they'd be able to create any sort of explosive with this book. That, and he'd be daft - as Zaeed himself would say - to ever consider leaving the kind of supplies needed within the twin's reach.

Garrus knows he doesn't need to worry about Chakwas aiding in turning his children into destructive terrors, and is proven correct when Cassia finally manages to get her box open and removes what looks like a hybrid of book and datapad. Before needing to be asked, Karin steps forward and kneels between the twins, pointing out the gift.

"This book will read along with you," she says with a smile as she opens the cover and shows them the bright pictures and text within. "And mom and dad can get you new books whenever you're done with the three here."

When the older woman stands and returns Jane's thankful nod, she turns enough for Garrus to get her attention. He mouths a 'thank you' that makes her shoulder shift in a light chuckle before she rejoins Zaeed in the group. Looking back to the twins in order to keep recording their gifts with his visor, he catches Jane handing down a pair of equally sized, more square and slightly smaller, boxes before them.

Without being told, Cassia and Damocles stop before instantly ripping them open and look at the tag. "Samantha?" "Samatha?" They both say, Cassia missing a letter in their aunt's name. She looks to her brother and back to her box before chirping and correcting herself. "Samantha!"

With a chuckle, Jane gives a wave of her hand in the all clear and they tear into this next present. The gift inside makes Garrus think there is some sort of conspiracy going on to slowly make him crazy, constantly envisioning the state of his home after the use of all these presents. There's just no way the Normandy family could have all come up with this kind of coincidence, he inwardly swears as the children show him a boxed toy entitled 'Mr./Mrs. Slime' -  _Comes with extra slime making instructions!_

Jane bites her lip, still managing to grin, as she looks to him to see his reaction, but he won't give the crew the satisfaction of seeing him slowly losing it to the idea of his house being destroyed by their rebelliously chosen 'presents'. Let them have their fun over his notable tendency for organization and cleanliness because he's -slowly- growing to accept the fact that children are the epitome of 'mess'. If he can live with the already destructive nature of Damocles and Cassia -  _even his grown wife, shockingly_  - then he can adapt to these presents.

At least, that's what he'll continue to tell himself as he watches the twins share the task of reading out Jack's name from a single box.

"Oh, you're gonna love this one," Jack says with a grin, nudging James with an elbow. "Bet you're gift is shit compared to mine."

He snorts. "You keep thinkin' that,  _chiquita_." Jack shoves her elbow into his side at that one, but he merely laughs and rubs the spot. Instead of give her the satisfaction, he looks to Sol at his opposite side and gives a jerk of his thumb over his shoulder towards the biotic, making Garrus' sister flicker her mandibles in a light laugh.

_Interesting… and I'm not quite sure how I feel about that._

His twin's loud whir of vocals draw his attention back to the box of a game called 'hover ball'. Jane, thankfully, keeps them from opening the box and most likely losing all the pieces, but Garrus can get a sort of idea what the game entails. At least, until his ideas are confirmed when Jack says, "Someone puts in a program and you two little shits have to race to catch it."

"I assume this is an outdoor toy?" Jane seems to be reading his mind when she asks, but her coy smile his way just proves that she's getting just as much entertainment from this as the rest of them.

Jack snorts as Jane grabs another gift. "If you want to be boring."

Next to come are the presents from Gelta and her family and, Garrus hopes, something that doesn't involve explosions or barely tamable animals. Instead, as he finds once the twins rip open the boxes, Gelta seems to have brought a new Blasto doll for each of them, both over a third the size of Damocles and Cassia themselves. One Blasto is dressed in a fancy tuxedo, a pistol in each of his front tentacles, and the other a hanar-styled Spectre armor, also with a pistol in each tentacle.

"I know we kinda ruined the surprise by asking what they wanted," Harak says with a shrug and smile. "But Gelta wanted to make sure to get the right one for them."

Cassia grins and hugs her formal suited Blasto to her chest. "It's like when he went dancing, daddy!"

Garrus chuckles, not surprised by the choices. Damocles has always loved the more action based scenes of Blasto while Cassia enjoys the love interests and romances. Not that she isn't against a good shoot-out, as the addition of dual pistols proves. So long as Blasto is dressed up, it seems.

"Well." Jane sets down a large, but seemingly lighter than expected, box before the twins. "I'll take a lack of surprise over them not being happy. There are tons of those Blasto stuffed dolls." Patting the box, she grins down to the twins. "This is from who?"

Cassia stands and looks down at the tag. "Uncle Grunt!" She looks to Grunt and grins, bouncing on her feet as Damocles reaches for the wrapping.

Together, they rip away the paper to reveal a huge chest of all kinds of animal-shaped toys. Garrus doesn't recognize them, but they definitely don't look like any animals he's seen in existence. That is, until he remembers some of the picture books Grunt would often help the twins to read.

"Dinosaurs!" Both children scream as they nearly grab the top of the chest to dig into their newest hoard of toys, but their mother grabbing more gifts reminds them of where they are. Of what  _more_ they still have to open.

Joker and EDI seem to perk up when the next set of presents are set down, and it's all Garrus needs to know what names the children read even before they call out the couple's names. Nearly as impatient to see the twins tearing open the gifts, Joker merely grins and waves the kids' happy looks. As they rip open the package, even Jane makes an impressed face as she looks to the pair. "Not bad. Now, if only they don't fly those things into anything in the house."

"Don't tell me… Something else destructive?" Garrus chuckles, no longer caring if it makes the twins this happy.

"Look, daddy." Damocles runs over, holding a box with an image of a Normandy on the front. Reading it, Garrus sees it's remote controlled.

"Now, you have to come to me before you fly those things." Joker crosses his arms, jutting his chin. "Can't have you going without learning from the best pilot in the galaxy."

"Oh, pfft," Aelia says with a wave of her hand, the other cupping Aeson in his sling against her chest. "You're so full of it, Joker." She grins and points to the stack of presents. "Ours are the two big ones in the light purple."

Shrugging in 'why not', Jane grabs one of said boxes and drags them over. She gives each child their appropriate boxes and leans back to let them open. Now that they don't need to figure out who gifted them, the papers fly off the boxes and, within, Cassia finds herself an actual child's oven. Perfect for all the times Cassia begs her mother, aunts, and uncles if she can help with meals, and for those where they can't allow her to when said prep involves tools too adult for the young girl. Damocles, however, finds a practice workbench, complete with a set of toy guns he can take apart and 'repair'.

Garrus has to admit that Lantar and Aelia have definitely paid attention to the small hints of interest the twins have given in emulating their parents and relatives. With Cassia so adamant about helping in the kitchen, Damocles practically begs to join Garrus or Jane whenever they take to an armory he isn't yet old enough to enter.

Next come two small boxes that each fit in Jane's hands. Setting them down, she points to the names for the twins to try. With help, they manage to understand how both Bray and Sephone spell their names, but the epiphany doesn't last long before they're ripping into the small packages to find a small module.

"What is it?" Gabby asks from the edge of the group, trying to scoot closer to get a look as she holds onto her toddler, Merida's, hand.

"Tactical cloaks," Garrus answers, humming before looking over to Sephone and Bray. "Really?"

Bray grins and shrugs while Sephone crosses her arms and leans her hip against him, the woman slightly taller. "Why not? It'll make hide and seek more fun."

"Uh huh," Jane says, snorting before offering two slim presents to each of the twins.

"Poe and… Kol-i-at." Damocles tries, but a look up to Jane and he pouts his lip.

"Kol-ee-aut." She smiles and caresses his ungrown fringe. "Go ahead, big guy." He smiles and lifts on to his haunches enough to nudge her hand before she touches Cassia in the same way. "Show us what you got."

Ripping open the present from the drell couple, Cassia holds up a datapad as Damocles examines his own. Flickering her mandibles, she looks to Poe. "It's a datapad."

Poe grins and nods as Kolyat clears his throat against his fist. "It's a personal datapad. You can lock it to your voice, your fingerprint, whatever, and write whatever you want into it. Like a journal that no one else can read."

Garrus watches as his daughter holds the datapad close and Damocles smiles up in thanks at the two for the present. With hopes, his children can learn to jot down all their worries and emotions, learn to move past the many disappointing things life has in store as stark contrast to that in vids. Jane must have the same thoughts as she waits this time to get the motion to continue before setting down the next gift before the twins.

The twins read 'Uncle Steve' from the top of their next gift, and the man smiles from where he stands at Kenneth's side, waving a hello to the twins when they look for him. "I hope you guys like it," he says, hopeful.

"If it doesn't bring down the house, I think Garrus might just kiss you," Jane says with a chuckle as the twins rip into their present. Cortez laughs and shrugs with a smirk, hands turned up at his sides, which makes Jane return the laugh and Garrus merely chuckle, fighting not to shake his head and ruin the vid on his visor.

"It's a play set!" Cassia yells from their newly opened present, an antique-styled chest apparently full of all sorts of clothes and outfits for playing pretend. "Do they fit?" She grins and holds a dress up to her body, eyes wide as she looks to her uncle.

"Of course." He smiles and glances towards Garrus and Jane when their daughter squeals and spins with the costume in her hands. "I got a bit bigger than their size so they can grow into it a bit."

"Good idea," Garrus says with a nod, knowing that, at this tage in their lives, the twins are still soft plated and growing rapidly, not yet in the stage of their fledgling years where their plates will harden to the point of a more painful molting. At least, at that stage of their growth, it'll only happen infrequently.

"Alright. Who's next?" Jane looks to the set of boxes laid out before the twins. "What's it say?" Damocles quirks a brow plate and flicks his mandibles once before looking to his sister for help. She, too, looks completely thrown and motions their mother close, pointing to the name and whispering something. Chuckling, Jane nods and lays a hand on their daughter's shoulder. "I'll teach you." Pointing to the label, she says, "That says 'Kay-dan'." She motions the Major standing beside his new wife, the woman he had rescued from the batarian slavers so long ago, and her - now his adopted - daughter, Celeste. "And that says 'Ros-a-lin'," Jane continues, pointing to the taller woman, "Remember?"

Nodding, Cassia smiles as Damocles, looks between the writing and the group. "And Celeste?" he asks, pointing first at their friend and then her name, finally putting the written name to a face.

The little blonde haired child smiles and waves at the twins, bouncing on her feet in excitement to have her family's gift unwrapped. Without pause, Damocles grins and turns to the packaging, waiting for his sister to grap hold of a corner before they rip at it together. When the paper comes undone, the single present turns out to be multiple boxes, each with a picture of something different, yet divided into smaller pieces.

"What the fuck is it?" Damocles says with an obvious tone of bafflement, never the one to mince words. Everyone laughs as Garrus looks to his wife in 'look what you've done', but he can't really blame her for who she is nor his son for learning from what he lives with daily. He at least can tell himself that Damocles only does it in certain situations when he's really excited or upset, right?

Calming her laugher, Jane squats down and sets the next batch of presents aside as she points to the box top. "They're puzzles. You put together these pieces to make a big picture. See? This one will make a Blasto. This one, a Citadel. And here's even a Normandy."

"Cool!" Cassia grabs the Normandy box and runs her fingertips over the smooth surface of the image printed on the cover. "I wanna build this one, mommy."

"We'll all build it together," Jane says with a kiss to the little girl's forehead. "Now, let's keep going before our guests die of hunger." She chuckles as she glances around at a crowd of the others and Garrus looks towards them, seeing quite a bit have already begun to steal food away from the buffet to have a meal with their entertainment. "Well, I should have figured."

"Next present!" Grunt yells, holding what looks like a weird piece of food in his hand that looks like the back leg of an animal, minus the distinguishing foot. "Next present!"

Some of the others, grinning at the opportunity to cause a ruckus, start to chant and Garrus raises his hands to still them. "Calm down. Not even into the drinks yet and we're already worse than the kids?" He smirks and raises a brow plate. "That's the Normandy way, sure, but let's keep it down so they can enjoy themselves too."

"Pansies," Jack says with a snort and playfully shoves Jur'uk at her side. "You know what fun is, don't you?"

"Primitives have no idea of 'fun'," Javik pipes in and Garrus shakes his head before turning to the twins.

"Go ahead, princess. Who's the next from?"

"Auntie Sol!" She grins and points to the tag now in her hand.

"Let's see!" Said aunt shouts from her place in the crowd, using James' shoulder to boost herself up to be seen over the others. "I wanna see!"

The twins grin happily and rip at the bright blues of the wrapping paper, chirping and purring at the idea of getting something from their playful aunt, if only because they know just how their father's sister can be when it comes to spoiling them. Beneath the massive amount of paper, Garrus shifts closer to catch sight of big lettering printed across the box stating 'Noveria Blizzard Shaved Ice'. He doesn't think his twins know of the importance, but he looks to his sister with a smile at the memories of him and his family often going to the town center to get shaved ice cups on hot days as a child.

"I thought they might like to know the experience even if they can't get to Palaven anytime soon," Sol explains with a warm smile and jerks a thumb towards the house. "I have syrups inside, but I didn't they'd want to open something so boring."

Garrus chuckles and nods in thanks. "No, they would not."

"Tell me that means we get to make some  _raspas_." James grins and waggles his brows. "We can even make some fun ones for us adults."

 _Of course_ , Garrus thinks as he looks back to the twins with their next gift.

They are already halfway through unwrapping in when he clears his throat to grab their attention. "And who is this from?"

"Kunkle and Auntie Ellie," Damocles says with a small envelope in his hand, offering it over.

Raising a brow plate in question as he glances towards the couple, he opens the small envelope and removes a small paper with numerous readouts and vitals listed across it. "What's this?"

"It was supposed to have been given personally to you and Jane," Arcanus says, stepping beside Garrus and offering to take the paper. "It must have been misplaced." He flicks his mandibles and looks to Ellie, getting an innocent shrug.

"Okay… so we weren't supposed to get it here. What is it?"

"It is part of the twin's gift from myself." He hands the paper back to Garrus. "I had them tested."

Garrus' mouth opens for a fraction, his mind firing on all cylinders over just how and, more importantly,  _why_ Arcanus would 'test' his children, and for what, but more of him is just plain confused and thrown by the concept. All he can manage is a plain, "What?"

"They have begun to show certain tendencies." He raises a hand to quiet Garrus from speaking and to let him continue. "I collected a sample of their saliva from their toothbrushes when they had visited and had Solus test it on a suspicion."

"We need to talk about just what you think is 'normal', Arcanus. Testing my children's saliva is not one of them." Garrus sighs and rubs his forehead. "But now I have to know what you really tested for. Is it anything bad?" He trills, panic setting in. "Please tell me they're okay-"

"Calm down, Garrus." Arcanus holds up a hand and shakes his head. "No. They are fine. They are not ill, they are biotic."

"What?" Garrus' voice is a bit higher than normal, drawing Jane and their twin's attention. He rumbles and frowns in apology. "Sorry. Keep going."

"We will discuss this later. Just know that I will do all I can to teach them what I know alongside whoever else they may train under." Arcanus gives a last nod before taking his place back with the others and leaving Garrus to gape silently as the rush of information floods his mind.

"Garrus?" He looks to his wife and she raises her brows, jerking her chin towards Arcanus. "You good?"

"Uh, yeah. We'll talk later about it. Don't worry, it's nothing  _bad_."

"Real believable," she responds with a chuckle and looks to Cassia. "Tell daddy what Auntie Ellie got you."

"It's a hacking terminal, daddy!" She moves to the box set aside for the next batch of presents and points to the image of a terminal similar to the one recruits use to practice their hacking. It'll run through possible algorithms to devise a locking sequences unlike any of the ones before of after, constantly adapting so that the user will have to learn how to predict and adapt to the concept of hacking, instead of just assuming every terminal will be the same as the one before.

"That's…" He looks over to Ellie and chuckles. "A bit advanced."

She shrugs. "Not really. I modified it. Sure, it's not as accurate as what they'll find out there, but it's a good first step."

"Alright, little monsters. This one is from granpa." Jane sets a collection of boxes down before the kids and waves a hand out to open them.

Unable to decide which to open first, it takes a moment before each of them starts to tear at the packages. When what's inside the first boxes reveals itself, the twins look like they aren't quite sure what to make of the intricate, hand constructed turian-designed train set pieces gifted to them. Garrus, however, does.

As a child, he often remembered how his father would put together models in his spare time. Much like the ones Garrus and Jane would work on while travelling with the Normandy, his father would spend the long rides between the Citadel and Palaven creating anything from skycars to space vessels from the tiny pieces. Once home, though, they would all go into a box to be stored away and never dealt with again, much to his mother's disappointment.

His father never saw the reason in keeping the models around for what they were actually intended, as decoration or a trophy of hard work. Instead, they were no different from a story on a datapad, read while unable to work and put away when their purpose was fulfilled. When Garrus was even old enough to ask about them, about the reasoning, he was merely told of the folly in cluttering the house with something that held no sentimental value beyond time consumption, but something in the way his father looks to says that, perhaps, the destruction of all they once took for granted in that old home has left its mark.

"Now, Elihu," Jane says with a note of exasperation, drawing Garrus away from the silent agreement with his father and towards the sight of his children happily laughing over a box of something called 'Operation'. "This is a bit old school."

"Perfect way to develop fine motor skills. Can also learn turian and human anatomy. Comes in dual games. Custom."

"Elihu?" Jane raises a brow and looks up from reading the box before she sets it aside to grab more gifts. "Turians and humans don't have actual horses and ice cream in their bodies."

He shrugs. "Must be entertaining. Else would not play."

Garrus chuckles and, when she looks up to him with a jutted lip, he shrugs. "He's got you there."

"Keep it up and I'll throw my wrench in my ankle at you." He doesn't understand, but it sounds like something she most likely caught from the box. He laughs and smiles down to her as the twins look at their next present.

As if waiting for him to look, Cassia rumbles and holds out the tag from her next present. "It's from auntie Liara, daddy."

_She can't possibly give them something to destroy the house. Right?_

Within the large crate that the twins open is a set of what looks like archaeological tools, just shaped for kids' hands. He should have known, but, thinking back to the story Liara once told of herself as a child digging holes in the nearest park's lush green grass, he can't help the warm smile at the thought actually put into it, considering. The twins do, after all, always have questions of their aunt's tales of finding 'bones of scary monsters' in her digs and, as of yet, she hasn't had the heart to correct them.

Javik, however, has had no such qualms. Yet, when considering the worst he could tell the twins, he actually has come around to the idea of telling them grand tales. Tales that, apparently, now come with drawn depictions of what Javik once saw as a child or heard in his own elders' tales. Garrus would have never known Javik would give such a gift, let alone be the one to have sketched the intricate images.

_And he thought he was nothing but a warrior of a lost time._

"My turn, youngin's." Rym motions the next box Jane lays forth, not really giving them the chance to figure out her name on their own as she takes a huge bite of something cubed and molted. "Ofen mine neff."

Jane snorts as the two giggle at the krogan woman trying to talk with her mouth full, but they follow her command without hesitation. Within in another box of toys, but these are much more intricate looking in their various shapes and colors, the way they seem made to lock together much like the pieces of Kaidan's gifted puzzles. Garrus has seen these types of toys before, read how they can be used to build anything from small structures to massive constructions, and he can't quite stop himself from imagining just what would come from his own children's imaginations.

Next to be handed over and called out are Tali's presents. Within her gifts are her immense love for space faring vessels as she bounces excitedly on her feet when they unwrap boxes of child-safe model ships. She can't seem to control herself as she runs over and kneels beside them, setting down her glass of something obviously alcoholic if her slurred speech is a safe indication.

"Thish ish  _my_ ship, the  _Ishamer...Ishamor… Ishamorria'Veil._ " She smiles and pats the box. "I can show yoush… all the shipshes…" She throws her arms out over the collection of boxes just as Ilden steps forward and catches her before she tumbles over.

Snorting, Jane helps him get Tali to her feet and pats the young quarian's back. "Still can't hold your liquor, I see." She shakes her head when Tali calls her a bosh'tet and looks down to the twins, the wrapped packages slimming down. "Want to pick the next one?"

"This one!" Damocles rushes to a vertically standing box and leans down to read the names. "Auntie Gab-by and uncle Ken." He looks up to get Jane's nod of affirmation at the pronunciation.

"Sounds good." She looks to Cassia. "Did you want to pick another meant for the both of you?"

Cassia flicks her mandibles and walks over to the dwindling pile, looking over it as she clicks her tongue. "This one," she says as she kneels down and grabs a slender package, turning it in her hands before reading the tag. "Aunt Kas-um-eye?"

"Kas-um-ee," Jane corrects with a hand on her daughter's back and nods. "Go ahead."

Before the words are even out of her mouth, the sounds of ripping paper echo across the beach as Damocles tears open his chosen present, unveiling a blackened easel. He trills in surprise and lays his hand on the black surface of the supposed canvas. "It's broken."

Donnelly laughs loud. "It's not broken, it glows in the dark!"

Damocles looks at the man as if he's speaking nonsense, but Garrus understands and approaches. Looking at the easel, he finds a set of markers secured to the back in a small case. "Here, son." He takes them and holds them for Damocles to see. "You draw with these on the black surface and, when you turn off the lights, it glows bright."

"Can I see?"

"When we open all the rest, I promise." When he pouts, Garrus adds, "Don't you want cake?"

Damocles gasps, eyes widening in a very telling gesture, and Garrus wonders how he never saw the signs Arcanus was talking about before. Of course, it could always be because he didn't have any experience with children before, but, then again, neither had Arcanus. Or, perhaps it's just because Arcanus always overthinks everything a child does as if trying to use adult logic, which doesn't turn out more times than not.

"Look, mommy." Cassia lifts onto her toes to show Jane a disk. "It says 'Blasto' on it."

Garrus watches his mate lift a brow before taking it in hand, reading the surface. "Kasumi? What is this? Is this a Blasto movie?"

"Not just a movie," the woman's disembodied voice says. "It's the newest Blasto movie. Just out of production and not scheduled to be released for another year."

"Do I want to know how you got that?" Garrus asks the air, and hears a giggle in response.

"A girl never tells."

Garrus shakes his head and, now that he's close, helps Jane haul another box before the twins. Again, they each give one twin a present for them both to save time, knowing more likely than not that the group is starting to get hungry and the other children bored. He could care less, but he doesn't want his own children to keep from food because their excitement and energy has them occupied for now.

"This one says Aunt Miri," Damocles says with a purr, smiling at the raven haired woman with her daughter on her hip. He waits to hear whose present his sister has before opening his package, showing more patience than he often presents on the majority of days, and especially not around anyone but family.

"This one is Aunt Ash," Cassia answers with a nod and wiggle of her hips on the mat, hands at the ready. With a look to her brother, they both dig into the wrapping papers.

When Cassia's hands stop flying in the way of the gift, Garrus manages to catch sight of actual, leather bound books, each one worn with time. The large images are faded, but he can guess they were once bright colors and, when Cassia opens the first, the insides show near perfectly intact pages of large print and vibrant pictures.

"I remember reading those as a kid," Ash explains as she helps Jane kick aside some of the discarded wrapping papers. "Those aren't the exact ones I had, but I found them at a shop on Earth and thought about you guys." She chuckles and looks up to Garrus, then Jane, giving a shrug. "And I'm not looking to have kids anytime soon right now."

"Good. They're a hand," Jane is stopped with a loud clang from Damocles' side of the presents, a child's musical instrument that looks similar to Jane's guitar, but without the thickness of body, "ful."

Ashley snorts as a majority of the Normandy family - those without kids, it seems like - laugh or chuckle in amusement. Oh, how Garrus remembers those days of thinking he were free of the tumultuous life of a parent, of figuratively flying into battle blind. While not a battle he expected, he wouldn't think twice about it now.

"We have two more for the both of you and then the others are separate." Jane points to a package Garrus recognizes as one of their own, and one that had to have multiple people to carry. "How about they open that together?"

Garrus nods and waves them over. "This is from you mom and I." He purrs, laying a hand on Cassia's shoulder as she passes, then Damocles' as Garrus steps out of the way. "Go ahead."

They can't move fast enough as they rip into the largest of their gifts. While it'll still need to be constructed, they immediately recognize the playground set as what it is from the picture on the box and squeal loud with both vocals. Clapping her hands together, Cassia jumps in place before grabbing onto Garrus' leg and hugging tightly. Damocles, too, runs to Jane and hugs her just before they rush back to gaze at the playset they have been wishing for since first seeing it on the extranet vids coming in from Earth.

"Gotta outdo us, aye, Scars?" James shouts over before making a click with his tongue and coming over. "Come on,  _niños_. Let's open uncle James' gift and show mom and dad how gift givin's done."

Following their boisterous uncle's guidings, the twins giggle and laugh as he unwraps his own gift with them, three sets of hands tangling with each other and only slowing the process down. Finally, they manage to get past the obstacle of too much help and pull the last of the paper hiding away Vega's gift of -  _Spirits, I know I don't really believe, but save me_  - a karaoke machine. It even amplifies voices, too, as the large print on the box says.

"Looks like we got another party game," Janes says, suddenly at Garrus' side, smirking and nudging his waist. "And I'm making it a rule that adults can only sing after a few drinks."

"Wonderful. Just when I thought my hearing was too good, James decided to fix that."

Jane snorts and chuckles, grabbing his cowl to make him lean down so she can kiss his mandible. "Don't be such a smart ass. You'll be too drunk to care, soon."

"Young Vakarians." Surprisingly, Legacy steps forward and kneels down, holding a small orb in each hand. "Geth do not yet understand this celebration around the passage of time relative to one's birth date, but we present this gift." Holding out his hands before each of the twins, the orbs lift from his palms and lights flicker along the axis. As they begin to spin, panels slide and open, and a hologram projects itself, a drone taking shape. "This defense drone is programmable. It will provide assistance in any combative situations."

"Oh-kay…" Jane pats Legacy on the shoulder. "We'll be sure not to be taking the twins on any missions in the near future, but I'm sure you can show them how to maintain their drones until then."

Legacy nods an affirmative before standing, leaving a drone each to Damocles and Cassia. With no one left but Garrus and Jane's presents, Garrus looks to the others before clearing his throat and moving to join his wife as she crouches before their children. She waits for him before handing over the two small boxes, each holding a very valuable piece of tech that, by all rights, wouldn't really be a suitable gift for children of four, but the twins are different. Judging my the majority of the presents given today, though, even the rest of their family think that Damocles and Cassia are older in mind than their bodies.

"What is it, mommy?" Damocles takes his and turns in in his hands.

"It's a very special present," Garrus explains as he holds out his hands to help Cassia once she tears off the paper.

As she slips the box into his hands, Garrus gently pulls off the lid, revealing the thin bracelet of the beginners Omnitool. Having never a physical Tool before, whether as the permanent implant or the more civilian bracelets, the twins don't immediately understand until he takes out the tiny tech and taps the access panel with the tip of his talon.

Immediately, it throws out an interface setup and Cassia gasps in understanding. She looks to him with wide, crystal blue eyes and he smiles, rumbling warmly as he offers out his hand. "Let me put it on you."

She can't seem to speak and, instead, flings her hand into his, chirping and trilling in joy and anticipation. He chuckles at her brother's echoing vocals as Jane does the same for him, both parents slipping the bracelets over their children's hand and tightening the clasp until it fits snuggly around their wrist with its sensor atop their hand. He leans back to let Cassis test the fit and grins when she runs her talons through the interface, clicking some commands that will need to be linked to the extranet - and censored, of course. Laughing, her vocals purring, she throws herself at him and hugs him tightly.

"Thank you, daddy. Thank you."

"Thank your mother, too." He speaks softly, nuzzling her cheek with his mandible. "And be sure to thank all your aunts and uncles too for your presents." Leaning back, he presses his forehead to hers. "Happy birthday, my princess."

Her mandibles spread as she nods rapidly and sidesteps her brother to fling herself into Jane's arms. Damocles, then, steps into Garrus' arms and nuzzles his own mandible to Garrus'. "Thank you, daddy."

"You're welcome, my son." Thrumming with his chest, Garrus cups his son's face, thumb caressing the deep scar running down his cheek. "Happy birthday, Damocles."


	12. Beach 6/2190

Garrus should have known the morning's too good to be true, the house too quiet. He learned long ago that 'quiet' meant the twins were up to trouble and, odds were, something in the house was in the process of being destroyed beyond any hope for repair. Yet, even knowing that, he can't force himself to get up out of bed, not after finally making it home from their latest job in the late hours of the night before. Jane laying against his chest also adds to the 'don't give a damn' feeling of this morning.

_Now, if only the twins could read my mind and watch themselves for at least a few more hours._

When he feels the soft stirring against his scarred chest, Garrus purrs and uses his warmer hand to rub his mate's back. She mumbles something, yawning and burrowing her cold toes into his calfs. He's used to that feeling, but her doing it never ceases to make him jump and trill as he does now. "Damn…" he whispers, shivering, "How can your feet be so cold?"

Jane chuckles, voice thick with sleep. "You're not," she stops, yawning before continuing, "doing your job in warming me up."

He snorts and nuzzles her, chin caressing her hairline. "My apologies, Your Grace. How dare I fall slack in my duties to keep your unnaturally frozen toes warm." At that, she chuckles and her arm slung over his hip slides around his waist to pull herself against him. He purrs and returns the hug with his arm beneath her, free and artificial hand brushing the hair from across her brow. "How'd you sleep?"

She shrugs, her brows twitching in a tell-tale sign that her slumber didn't come with the rest she deserves. Yet, she doesn't admit to a repeat of nightmares and he doesn't push. Sometimes he can find himself in her dreams because of their Leviathan-imbued connection, able to help her without forcing her to admit what she sees as weakness, but, when the uncontrollable connection doesn't join their dreams, he can't get a word from her about what she had to face alone.

Psychological damage is not something new to his people. As a species so used to war, so ready to face hell for the cause, and damn the aftermath, but he knows no amount of education on the subject could prepare him for the nightly struggle the two of them go through. Jane, no matter what he tells her, will always carry the pain of losing so many, of what she believes to be her mistakes, and he can't do anything but hold her, listen, and soothe her pains. He learned long ago that the turian way of taking survivor's guilt was no consolation for her, no balm to her mental wounds.

"I fucking hate PTSD." Jane's voice is tired, her shoulders heaving in a heavy sigh. "Even with Elihu and Dr Forza's help, I just can't get rid of the shit."

The batarian doctor, Dr Forza, knew much about the psychological damages of war and stresses left from being the one to command soldiers to their deaths. She went through much to get to where she is, to learn how to help people despite her species and the prejudice associated, and, admittedly, learned much of what she now uses from her time in the Hegemony. After the war, however, she tried to move on from her destroyed people's old ways, to show she was more than the Hegemony's cultural and political views, but she didn't make it far in the galaxy. That's why, when the Wraiths learned through Shadow Broker channels that a doctor who could help those still suffering from hidden wounds earned in the war, they offered a deal, loyalty for a home, and all that comes with it. It wasn't hard for Dr Wyka Forza to accept and she has, so far, done a better job taking care of those like Jane far better than Elihu could with his limited studies in psychiatry.

"We'll get through it," he promises to himself just as much as his wife, laying his chin on her head and closing his eyes as her scent surrounds him. There are many nights where she wakes in tears and screaming, and he holds her through the pain, but he can tell she hasn't fallen that far into her thoughts this morning. With her current condition, a simple distraction and time away from her dreams will wash away the nightmare. "So," he begins, lifting from her head to smile down to her, "since the kids are out of school today, what are our plans?"

She chuckles, a soft smile at the corner of her lips. "I don't know. It's not really up to us to choose, now is it?"

As if summoned, Garrus hears the heavy sounds of feet pounding down the wooden floors as he hums in feigned consideration. Ever since the twins managed to form opinions of their own, Garrus and Jane have found themselves bending to Damocles and Cassia's will. Not that he can complain. Whatever the kids tend to pick, it doesn't often leave Jane or himself out of the fun and games.

The door slams open, Jane cringes, and Garrus imagines the damage a door thrown open with that amount of force could do. Luckily, he managed to think about such eventualities when building the home and reinforced said places of the worst wear and tear with the children always at the forefront of his mind. If this was to be the home he gives his wife for the rest of their lives, he was going to make damn sure it survived the two forces of nature they call their children. Especially if Arcanus is right - which he usually is - about them being biotics soon to start showing physical signs any day now. He shudders just thinking about the amount of destruction the two will be able to do once that happens.

"Mommy!" "Daddy!" Both scream in tandem, the sounds mixing into some intelligible shout of voice and trilling vocals. The heavy thumps of feet bounce off the smooth, wooden floors of the master bedroom. Garrus can hear the difference in tone as the twins run over the rug just before the bed and has just enough of a chance to brace himself and his mate just before the onslaught as he cups her head to his chest to shield it.

The children fly more than climb onto the bed and land on Garrus with the weight of a Mako. He grunts as the air rushes from his lungs and the twins giggle and grin, trying to pull the blankets away from his and Jane's head in attempt to make sure the two adults are wide awake. Normally, he'd be all for waking early and meeting the children before they could get impatient enough to dive into his bed, but, for just today, he wished they would magically sleep in, but, apparently, children do not live by the same schedule as two soldiers running on a bare three hours of sleep.

Jane groans and tugs the blanket back over her head. "Go away," she mumbles tiredly, curling up against Garrus as Damocles climbs over them to plop behind his mother's back. "Too early…"

"Come on, mommy." Cassia leans over Garrus and tries yanking on the blankets. "Wake up and come play."

"Yeah, come on, sleephead!" Damocles helps his sister tug the blanket from Jane, her hair mussed from sleep and eyes squinting against the sudden unveiling. "Wake up!" He starts to bounce.

Jane makes a wordless grumble of tired protest and Garrus chuckles, looking back to his daughter. "You're up early."

She shakes her head. "Uh-uh." Pulling up her omnitool, she opens the clock. "You said you want us to wake when it's at the eight," she explains, pointing at the time. "It's ten, dot, four and five."

Shocked, Garrus shifts to his back and pulls up his own tool. It's not like he doesn't trust the time keeping on Cassia's tool, but he just can't seem to believe he slept in so late - and that the house is still standing after however long it's been since the twins woke up without him or Jane. True to his daughter's words, though, it's fifteen minutes until eleven o'clock.

"Wow," is all he can really say, mind blank except for what in the galaxy is he waking up to outside of this master bedroom. Looking to his mate, he smiles to see she's at least awake enough to be playing with Damocles by trying to grab his hands when he moves to tug on the blankets over her shoulders.

Still, even occupied, Damocles' mind quickly changes gears as he pouts and sits flatly on his side of the bed. "I'm hungry."

"You?" he asks Cassia and she nods, mandibles perking at the prospect of filling her belly. "Then how about you and Damocles give us a second to get dressed and we'll all have something to eat."

"Okay!" she says happily, jumping off the bed and running out of the room. Her brother gives Jane's side of the blanket a last jerk before laughing at his supposed victory and rushing out to join.

"Bastards," Jane says, her voice soft and a smile on her lips. "How bad do you think it is outside?"

Garrus chuckles and stands, going to the door to gently close it so his wife can get dressed. Seeing him undressed is something the twins can understand since everything of his is hidden away, but trying to explain what unclothed breasts and human genitalia are to two four year olds of a different species is another matter. Last thing they really want to go into right now is anything close to a sex talk thanks to curiosity over why mommy looks different and if they will grow into the same shape when they hit puberty and their groin plates finally part. It's hard enough explaining to Cassia that, no, she will never grow the hair she envies on her mother.

Once she stands, Jane heads to their dresser and pulls out a pair of underwear, loose pants, and a sleeveless top. She dresses quickly as Garrus pulls on his own sleeping pants and heads out to see to the twins while she finishes up, always faster to dress without all the extra clothes to put on or chest bumps to cover. He's just as ready to go out about the house in just a pair of pants while she has to practically wear an entire closet.

_The benefits of being a turian…_

So far, walking through the living room, past the dining area, and into the open kitchen, he sees nothing destroyed or out of place. Now, what state the twin's bedrooms are in is a different matter, but, then again, their bedrooms are always a disaster zone on even a good day, so there wouldn't be much they could do besides blowing a hole in the wall. Perhaps, he thinks, the twins slept almost just as late as he and Jane did by the looks of things and lack of dirty breakfast dishes in the sink or on the table. More than clean their rooms, they'd never pick up their own dishes without mention from either himself or Jane.

Unable to reach the most likely target of their sugary cereals, the twins hop impatiently at the counter directly below the cabinets where their Blasto cereal is tucked away. Damocles has his hands flat on the countertop, trying to use it to lift himself up as Cassia merely watches Garrus enter, a grin on her face as her eyes cut towards the cabinets in silent urging. Chuckling, Garrus lays a hand on her head as he passes and goes to his son, laying a heavy hand on his shoulder to still him, smiling back at his son's grin of innocence.

"I'll get it. He motions the far counter. "Go grab your spoons," he says before grabbing their plastic bowls covered in cartoon characters from one of their favorite shows - something about a happy Elcor and his friends, Garrus thinks - and handing them to his son, "and take these to set the table."

"Okay, daddy." Cassia rushes over to the counter, pulls out the drawer, and grabs two spoons shaped for their little hands. Giving her brother a nod, she follows him to the sunny alcove where there small breakfast table sits with just enough chairs for the four of them. Just as she and Damocles are placing out their bowls and safety spoons, Jane shuffles in, hand to her mouth as she yawns loudly.

"How can you three be so awake?"

Garrus chuckles as he turns on the heating appliance beside the sink for the hot water she'll need to make her tea. When she comes to him, he purrs and leans down to receive a kiss on his plated cheek. "We're turians. We're built to be wide awake and aware the moment we wake up." He snorts at her eye roll and hands her the brightly colored box of cereal from the cabinet to save her the effort of stretching for it, even if he loves the things it does to her body.

"Hand me a bowl?"

He lifts a brow. "What are you going to eat?" When she shakes the box hard enough to make the crunchy pieces inside rattle against one another, he blinks in surprise and asks, "That?" He points to the box. "You're going to eat that for breakfast?"

"Why not?" She lifts her own brow and turns the box in her hand to look at the highly decorated cover. "If we let the twins eat it, why not us?"

"Because it tastes mostly like sugar?"

She laughs and swats his arm with the box. "Grab me a bowl, and might as well turn off the water steamer. I don't think tea goes with cereal."

He hums and watches her walk to the table and sit down, smiling as she listens to what must be a great story about something that happened while they were gone. That, or Jane is exaggerating her enthusiasm, but that's usually not like her. Never, with their children, does she lie about her feelings or emotions when it could ultimately hurt them, even if they never knew of her deceit.

Figuring  _why the hell not_ , Garrus grabs two bowls from the cabinet, two more spoons from the drawer, and the milk from the fridge. Heading to his family, he sits at the chair opposite his son and between his daughter and wife on each of his diagonals. Cassia and Damocles wear happy smiles as he hands Jane the box to pour for everyone, while he opens the carton for the - surprisingly - passable tasting synthesized milk.

Actual milk just wouldn't transport from whatever colonies that possess the creatures that produce it, but the synthetic equivalent Miranda had found did the job. Not that they'd know one way or the other when neither he nor Jane actually had real milk in their lives and the twins haven't known anything but this brand of syntho-milk.

Jane fills the bowl before Damocles first, placing it before Garrus to fill with milk, then offers her hand across the table in request for Cassia's. Pouring the syntho-milk into the bowls, he lets his wife gently hand their son his bowl to limit any spills before Garrus himself hands Cassia her breakfast bowl. He smiles and rumbles tenderly when he turns to Jane, swapping bowls to pour milk over the cereal before switching back to do that same to his own breakfast.

The children don't wait before digging into their meals like rabid varren and Garrus chuckles before taking his own bite of the fruity and sweet cereal. Jane snorts around her spoonful, but smiles over to him. It seems that, true to Arcanus' suspicions, the children are a perfect example of 'like mother, like child' as all three eat like it's their first meal in centuries. All the while, Garrus savors the sugary breakfast, eat bite rolling over his tongue before he tilts his head back and swallows.

"Daffy?" Damocles swallows his bite before using his spoon to lift and drop some of his food. "Can we go play outside today?"

"Of course. You don't need to ask to go outside," Garrus says, purring as he tilts his head. "Are you going to go play on your playhouse? Or practice your shooting?" When Damocles shakes his head to both, Garrus looks to his daughter. "Will you be playing with him?" She nods and he chuckles. "Then, do you mind giving your dad a hint?"

Cassia giggles and looks out at the edge of the water down the beach. "We wanna build sandcastles and play in the water." Her big eyes look over to him pleadingly. "Please?"

Normally, a shudder would run through Garrus at the mention of them doing anything close to the water without either himself or Jane, but something in the way the twins both look to him, then their mother, pulls at his heart. He glances to Jane and watches as the corner of her lips quirk up into a half grin as she says more to him than the twins, "I see no problem in that."

He knows she's trying to soothe his worries, but when she turns to the children, he can't seem to say no to their hopeful looks. Sure, the twins have been in the water up to their shins before, but it's always been under supervision and never, in all the time they've been going to the shore, have they wanted to actually  _play_ in the water. They've saved the galaxy, so taking their kids out to the shore shouldn't be a problem.  _Won't_ be a problem, he reminds himself because, dammit, he won't let his anxiousness get in the way of their fun.

She doesn't seem to notice his running thoughts as she looks to the twins. "How about that? We get some bathing suits on and sit in the waves right where the sand is wet and perfect to make shit?"

The twins giggle at her words, but nod. Rushing to eat their food, they practically lick the bowls when they tip them up to drink the milk just like they've learned from watching their mother. Even seeing it nearly everyday they eat cereal, it still makes Garrus laugh quietly, shoulders shaking as, not a moment later, his wife follows suit. She chuckles herself as she watches him eat politely, her eyes teasing.

"You planning on eating that same bowl for lunch, too?" He hums in mock thought, looking at his spoonful, and she chuckles. "Well, hurry your ass up." Getting up, she motions the twin's bowls. "Clean up the table, guys, and then we can go get dressed for the water."

Both children can't seem to nod fast enough as they hop down from their chairs, grab their empty bowls and spoons, and run to the sink. Practically tossing the dishes in the sink, Damocles and Cassia run out of the room, around the corner, and up the stairs, trilling and cooing in excitement all the way. That just leaves Garrus and Jane as he finishes up his cereal and stands to follow her in putting everything back where it belongs. With the box of cereal in the cabinet, Jane putting the milk in the fridge, and dirty bowls and spoons washed off and left in the sink, he takes her hand and walks with her to their bedroom so she can dress.

"So…" Jane waits until he closes the door before grabbing the hem of her shirt and yanking it up and off over her head. "You okay with this? With letting them play in the water?"

Garrus rumbles and unties the loose string holding up his pants. "I can't say I like it, but they'll have fun. And we'll be there to make sure they're safe."

"Of course." Her pants and panties go the way of her shirt as she tosses them across the room. "And when you're flailing around, I'll save you too." She smirks. "In fact, I think you're the one I need to worry about. The kids? They know how to stay on shore, but you? I have a feeling your ego gets the better of you."

He snorts as he pulls on a looser pair of shorts not really meant for a turian, but purchased special order. Strangely enough, he wasn't the only turian in the galaxy willing to challenge death. Well, death that didn't come from mercs or a giant Reaper. Compared to drowning when all his alien friends apparently knew how to float, fighting Reapers was child's play.

"Oh, to be fell by the seemingly peaceful waves of Virmire." He grunts and goes to the master bath for her protective cream. "What an embarrassing way to go. Make sure they don't put 'drowned because he thought he could float' in the Wraith annals."

He can hear her laugh as he grabs the sun cream from off the counter and comes back to her. Giving her a good up-down, he growls softly at the way her dark blue and white swimming suit accentuates her hips and waist in the way its divide rises to midwaist. Catching his sound, Jane looks to him with a smile and light brushing of pink to her cheeks, one she'd never admit nor let someone point out. Still, he can't help the warm chuckle at her continuing self-consciousness towards her beauty as he gestures towards the door.

She follows him out to the living room, still empty in sign that the twins are still getting dressed. He might as well take the opportunity to do something with his hands, so he pops open the tube of cream and squeezes some of the cold lotion onto his hands. He can stand the chill, he's become used to it, and warms it between his palms before coming to her.

She turns without direction and offers the uncovered expanse of her back. He lays his hands on her shoulders first and rumbles at the shiver and gasp she never ceases to hold back when they do this, no matter how often they perform this routine of protection. "Fuck, that's cold as shit."

"An inaccurate description, I hope," he says with a chuckle, smoothing the cream down from her shoulders to her hands where he links his fingers with hers for a single squeeze. Once her back is covered, he motions for her to turn around, but she quickly grabs the tube of cream from his hand. "Nope. This is my turn. I'm not an invalid, I can put sunscreen on my own chest and face."

"Shame." He smirks and runs the tip of his talon along the upper edge of her swimming suit, right above the roundness of her breasts.

She snorts and swats at his hand playfully, pushing him towards the entry way. "Go grab the kids some toys and I'll do this."

Knowing she's one to not accept help with something she sees as simple as this, Garrus does as she says and walks towards the entryway closet. Sometimes, when the other Normandy kids visit - or Gelta, as she now practically lives here on days - they would play in the waters, so the have plenty of toys and floatation devices for the twins. If they are so adamant about wanting to test out the water, then he's insists they wear at least one. Hearing the heavy footsteps of his children thumping down the stairs, he grabs four of the long beach towels and moves to join the rest of his family.

"Come on, daddy!" Cassia greets impatiently, waving a hand over in her little purple body suit, while her brother, clad in loose shorts, holds a bucket of sand digging toys. "Let's go play!"

"Slow your roll, love," Jane says with a chuckle, heading to the glass doors that'll lead out to the deck. "Ready, daddy?" Smirking over her shoulder, she adds, "We wouldn't want to kids to think you're slowing down their fun."

He snorts and lays his hand on his son's back to follow his sister as she leads the way out of Jane's open door. Handing her the stack of towels on the way out, he opens the air nozzle of the floating toys, When he tested them, they seemed too soft for his liking, so he takes the flat nozzle into his mouth, tightens his mandibles to his mouth to create a better seal, and blows air into the first toy. He inflates it on the way down the deck steps until it's firm in his hand and closes the clasp, doing the same to the smaller inflatable floating aids one of the twins will be able to wear on their arms.

Reaching the edge of the beach, the children give one last glance over their shoulder and, when they receive the go ahead in a nod, they break into a full out run towards the darker sand at the edge of the lapping water's shore. Garrus can't help but chuckle at their enthusiasm as they go, bumping his wife's shoulder as they approach at a much slower, controlled pace. They reach the shore just in time to watch the kids plop down and dig their tiny hands into the moist sand.

"This is the life," Jane says, looking out over the horizon and the water as far as Garrus can see. "Just sun, laughing kids, and maybe a nap."

Garrus chuckles and sets the floating toys aside to help her lay out two of the towels for them to relax on. Sitting down, he leans back on his hands and stretches out his legs to bask in the sun. "Just remember that when you have sand everywhere," he jokes, remembering how she has complained once about 'having sand in places she didn't know she had'. "Not to mention if you forget to use that cream and end up looking like one of those sherry fruits."

She laughs and lays on her own long towel, using the kids' towels as a pillow. "Cherry, Garrus, cherry." She closes her eyes and wiggles as if she needs to get comfortable. "And I already made a timer on my tool to remind me to put more on." One of her eyes cracks open and a smirk spreads on her lips. "Don't try and skimp out on helping me lotion up my back."

"I'd never think of it." He purrs and leans down over her to kiss her. He feels her warm breath puff against his plates as she chuckles near silently just before opening her lips and teasing her tongue against his mouth. Growling, he slides his tongue against hers for just a moment before pulling away. She makes a frustrated sound and he cups her cheek, smirking. "Later."

"Promises, promises." Chuckling, she closes her eyes and lays her head back down on her makeshift pillow. "Let me know how their castle comes out."

He raises a brow plate and looks out towards where the twins dig in the sand. "What? Sleeping and leaving me to watch them alone?"

"That's the idea." She smirks and shifts to lay a hand on his thigh. "Just five minutes."

"Five minutes mean until your omnitool sounds."

She shrugs. "Same difference."

He lets her rest, knowing she, as a human, needs more sleep than he does. Sure, his schedule has shifted over the years to match hers, but a turian still needs less sleep to function that a human and, at this rate, he's sure he'll get his chance to switch places when she wakes back up. Once she wakes, he's going to make sure to spend some time out here sunning to the sounds of his children playing and laughing as they are now.

He watches Damocles attempt to dig the biggest hole he can as Cassia tries to use their plastic pail to pile the wet sand he displaces into a large mountain. Sometimes, watching them like this, he wonders what they imagine and see in their games, in the stories they tell in their own special language. He's sure that, as a child, he, too, would get lost in his own head and left his parents wondering just as he is, but even considering a child's mind, his twins share a connection between just the two of them. He once heard that twins have a one-of-a-kind ability, but he never considered it true until his son and daughter. Whether it be because they are the only two of their hybrid genetics and, thus, the only two to know each other's lives or just because they spend so much time together, the almost supernatural bond is there.

Shame that he, nor any other turian, would ever have had the chance to know that sort of link.

"Daddy?" Damocles walks up the beach, sand covering his legs and hands. "Can we go into the water?"

Garrus trills in shock, his children  _never_  asking to go out into the dangerous waters, and his eyes widen because he knows that there's more to the question than just wanting to stand in the shallow water. "What?" is all that he seems able to say.

"I wanna go in the water," his son says again pointing back towards the waves, a pleading quiver to his mandibles when he looks back to Garrus. "Please?"

"I… Uh… I don't…" His words die at the look on Damocles' face and he swallows down any more protest. Glancing to his daughter silently approaching, he asks her, "Do you want that too?"

Cassia is more hesitant, but she nods. "Uh huh."

As he hums, heart speeding at the terrors of every worst case scenario, Jane speaks. "Sure," she says, shifting to sit up in much the same relaxed position that Garrus was just in before his children decided to try and give him a panic attack. "How about we take each of you and hold you while we walk into the deeper waters?"

Her glance his way proves that this is more aimed towards him than the children, but they accept the terms all the same with cheers of approval. Flicking his own mandibles, Garrus rumbles and lets his eyes move over her reassuring smile. Finally, with no intent to crush his children's curiosity, he purrs at the two little ones and nods, forcing a smile past his worry. "Sure. But you have to wear these." He grabs the floating toys and waves the children over. "I want Cassia to wear this one," he says as he slides the circular tube around her waist and snaps closed the back, "and Damocles will wear these." Next, he grabs the two smaller wraps for his upper arms and closes the clasps to secure it.

With one final tug to ensure the floating devices are on, he nods once and smiles at his children as some of the panic eases. Not completely, but enough to soothe the rapid pounding of his heart.

Gaining his acceptance, the children bounce on their feet in anticipation and practically pull Garrus and their mother to their feet with both hands taking their parents' much large one. He and his mate chuckle as they climb to their feet and he, as soon as he's up, grabs Cassia by her tiny waist and hefts her up to his hip, purring at her loud, joyous laugh. Jane has to crouch to pick up their son, but he shares his own happiness with her as Garrus hears his chattering trills and chirps of excitement.

Walking out to the sea, Garrus stops right beside the twin's sandcastle attempt to let his toes sink into the sand that exists in a state between a liquid and solid. The sensation is one he's never quite gotten used to and it still manages to amaze him, but now isn't the time to stop and relish the feeling of solid ground and bare touches of water at his toes. Taking a deep breath, he waits for Jane to join him at his side before moving in time with her out towards the deeper waters.

The feeling of the cold water rising up his legs sends pangs of panic up his spine, but he doesn't let it show, being the strength for his daughter. As the waves kick at his knees, then thighs, and finally hips, he suddenly hears Cassia's frantic yelps of vocals and her audible cry of fright. He stops immediately, eyes wide and fringe tingling in the secret sense of feeling someone staring at his back coming from Jane and Damocles closer to the shore due to her inability to go out as far because of her height.

Trilling once, Garrus quickly cups Cassia's head to his shoulder and whispers soothing, wordless noises. "Shh, shh. It's okay. We don't have to go any further. It's okay." Purring deeply, he leans back to be able to look in her wide eyes. "How about we go back?"

Ever a Vakarian child, Cassia juts her jaw in determination and shakes her head. "No."

"No?" Rumbling, he presses his forehead to hers. "Cassia, you don't need to be able to do everything. It's okay to say you're scared, to not do something because it makes you uncomfortable."

"I wanna do it." She looks over his shoulder and Garrus, curious, turns to watch Jane and Damocles up to his waist in the water.

Understanding strikes and he frowns, sighing softly. "Cassia," he says, eyes dropping to her. "You don't have to be able to do everything Damocles does. You can be your own person, be an individual with your own strengths."

"I wanna do it."

"Cassia-"

"I wanna do it!" Her tiny talons grip the edges of his plates tight and she looks to him, expression full of frustration, but also hope.

_She truly is Jane's daughter. I remember seeing that look too many times during the war._

Relaxing his mandibles, Garrus gives in and nods once. "Okay, but, if you are scared, you tell me. Understood?" She smiles softly and nods, turning to the water kissing her feet.

With a final glance of reassurance over his shoulder to both calm his wife and himself, Garrus takes slow steps into the water while holding Cassia tighter to his chest in silent support. As he goes deeper and the water rises, he can feel her tense, but, with a pause in his movements, she eases. With time, her hand even reaches out to run over the surface of the water and, before long, it seems like she doesn't even notice when the water rests around her hips.

"You're my strong girl," Garrus whispers, smiling and purring in pride. "You know that?" When she looks to him in confusion, he decides not to frighten her with revealing how deep they are. Instead, he listens to Damocles and Jane laughing and splashing in the water around themselves for a moment before laying his hand in the water beside hers. "I got you. I always have you."

Cassia chirps and her mandibles spread in a smile as she hugs onto him, nuzzling his neck. Piece by piece, with each passing second, he feels her relax completely in his arms. It isn't until he watches her eyes go wide and a trill echo in her throat that he realizes she's seen how far out they are over his shoulder. Jerking in his arms, she looks down at her hips and gasps.

"I did it, daddy!"

Happy beyond words for her power to overcome her fear, Garrus nods and can't stop his mandibles from spreading in a wide grin. "Yeah," he says, voice a whisper as the breath breaks from his lungs, "You did it. I'm so proud of you."

She may not understand all of what he's saying, but she must feel the emotion in his harmonics as she grins and hugs him again. She doesn't speak, and she doesn't have to as he just holds her tight, singing to her without words. The only sounds are of his and her vocals and the calming rhythm of the waves around them.

"Daddy," she says after a time he can't put actual calculation to, "can I have ice cream?"

Not surprised by her every attempt to get the sweet, cold treat, Garrus nods. If ever there was a time she deserved it, it would be now. After all, she and her brother both overcame a fear that many turians would never dare challenge on their own free will. Sure, he had to perform water training in basic, as did every other turian, but only the insane would ever return to water without having a pack of wild klixen - or the like - chasing them. In that case, sometimes drowning is better.

He laughs and looks down to his daughter's light blue eyes. "Of course, princess. We'll get you and Damocles an ice cream." Heading back towards shore, he passes Jane and their son. "I'm going to go inside and get them some ice cream cones. As a celebration." He smiles to his surprised, but enthusiastic, son. "For doing so well." He huffs a laugh. "Better than me, even."

They twins giggle, Damocles asking, "You're afraid of water?"

"You kidding? Good thing Cassia was with me to cheer me on." Cassia flutters her mandibles shyly at that. "Did you have fun, Damocles?"

"Uh-huh."

Reaching the shore, he sets Cassia down and moves to head inside, but Jane stops him with a hand on his arm. "Stay out here with them and help them dry off? Have to go to the bathroom anyways."

He nods and watches the children rush to the towels on the beach. "Sure. I got it." Looking to her, he adds, "Bring out some water?"

Jane gives him a thumbs up before running back to the house. Just in time for him to catch the twins almost using the already thrown out, and completely sandy, towels to dry off.

"Guys, wait!" He walks over, making quick time with his large strides, and chuckles as he shakes his head. "You're going to get sand all over you if you use those. Here," he explains, handing them the folded towels, "At least you won't have  _as_  much sand on you."

"Daddy? Did you ever swim?"

Garrus hums at Cassia's question. "In the military training. I wasn't very good." He smiles and sits on his towel, not caring if it'll get soaked because he plans to let it dry along with himself in the sun. "My swimming entails a lot of flailing, followed by bouts of drowning."

They don't seem to understand, sharing a look between each other, but that's just as well. He's sure they'll understand well enough one day. That, and he's done well to teach them that, though they shouldn't outright fear the water, they must always be cautious when around it. One day, they'll be able to go alone to let the water lap at their plates, but that'll be a long way off.

He hopes.

When his wife returns with two cones of the kids' favorite crazily colored, blue ice cream with white fluffs of something sugary and two bottles of water, the twins can't get to her fast enough. Under the pretense of helping her, of course, but he knows better. He's even proven right when Damocles can't start eating fast enough. He chuckles as the three approach and takes the bottled waters so Jane can sit with free hands.

When the twins move to sit on the towels, Jane holds up a hand. "Oh, no. You have to eat that shit over the sand or it'll get all sticky." Laying back, she uses her elbows to hold herself up and watch the twins eat in their own way, Damocles taking huge bites while Cassia uses her tongue to takes swirls off the top. "Damocles, you're going to get a brain freeze. Eat slower." He mumbles with a full mouth as the melting ice cream drips onto his hands, but Jane seems to give up as she looks over to Garrus. "You did amazing out there." She huffs a laugh and smirks. "They're going to make you look like a fool soon when they're going out there on their own."

"Don't remind me." He sighs. "I can't believe they have more determination than I did at their age."

"Oh? What were you doing at their age, exactly?"

"The exact opposite," he responds, chuckling as he smiles to her. "While they're wanting to be in the water, I was off climbing trees…. And falling out of them."

She barks a laugh. "You? Falling out of trees?" Laughing, she sits up and nudges him. "Good thing you learned how to not fall on your ass while getting up onto sniper perches."

He chuckles and nods, looking over to their children and grunting in surprise at Damocles already done and licking his fingers. "Son, did you even enjoy it?" Their son looks to him, and the innocent question of 'huh' in his eyes wipes away any exasperation at him engulfing his food. Instead, Garrus shakes his head with a rumble of amusement. "Just don't go running around until it settles."

Cassia, looking from her cone to her brother, hums and steps closer to him. "Want some?"

Garrus can't justify telling her the lesson of savoring one's food, not when she so lovingly offered some of her own treat. To punish them with a reprimand will only ruin the moment of a celebration of their courage in the water. He can't do that to them no matter how much he wishes his daughter weren't so self-sacrificing, even to her brother, with something as simple as an ice cream cone.

What he doesn't quite expect out of his son, though, is Damocles taking a huge bite off the top of Cassia's cone in excitement. Even Cassia seems surprised at her brother's hunger and, though Garrus knows it was not out of malice and more over enthusiasm, he can't stop the sharp grunt of scolding that passes his mouth plates. Luckily for him - and for the light nature of today - Damocles doesn't take the short growl as anything negative beyond the guarantee that he's been caught 'red handed', as humans say.

_Although, I'd say it's more like sticky blue handed._

Jane laughs from beside him. "Damocles, you little shit!" Sitting up, she wipes at her eye, sputtering out gasping chuckles. "You're such a bastard." She waves over their son and he grins, running over to sit between her legs. "When someone offers you something, you don't take a ton of it. You take a small bite."

"Okay, mommy," he responds, expression giving Garrus the idea that he's thinking the lesson over in his head.

"Apologize, Damocles." Garrus' tone is low enough to be heard and taken seriously, but not a promise of continued punishment once he does as told.

Damocles ducks his head, chirping once before picking at the fabric of the towel. "I'm sorry."

Looking to Cassia, Garrus smiles and gives her a nod in reassurance that they both aren't in trouble anymore. Purring, she returns the gesture and goes over to sit in the sand beside him, but he pats the towel in acceptance of whatever spills may come in return for being close to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork for this chapter done by the wonderful [BlastedKing](https://blastedking.tumblr.com/)


	13. Fight 2/2191

Today is some strange holiday Miss EDI had told everyone was a human holiday called Valentine's Day and, even though she told everyone a long story of what it was about, Damocles still doesn't understand what's so special. Everyone, at least the humans, are handing out cards and small bits of candies. He and Cassia get some too, but he knows it's because Miss EDI, their own aunt, said everyone should get a card if you brought any for other kids. That way no one was left out, she said, but Damocles knows he's getting cards just because the other kids were told to.

His sister wanted to give out Valentine's cards, but he didn't, so he doesn't have anything to hand out to the others when Miss EDI tells everyone it's time. He sits at his desk instead and watches his sister run around to everyone with a big smile even if they give her the same looks they always give her and him. They don't have angry faces, but Damocles can tell they aren't nice when he always gets a weird feeling in his chest whenever they look at him that way.

He sighs and looks down at the coloring page Miss EDI passed out to the whole class to color and give to their parents for Valentine's Day. He loves his mommy and daddy, so he's colored the pictures of what Miss EDI calls 'hearts' for them, but, now that he's done, he just sits and waits for it all to be over. He doesn't say thanks or smile at the kids who just drop cards onto Cassia's desk or toss them at his hands, but he wants them to be nice to his sister when she hands hers to them. They should be nice to her because she's been nice to them no matter what, no matter how mean they are to her.

"Hi, Damocles." He looks up to see Gelta, his sister's only friend and the only other person who's nice to him and her. "I got you a card." She smiles and hands over a purple heart covered in Blasto and more heart stickers. "Happy Valentine's Day."

His mandibles flicker as she turns to leave a much bigger card for Cassia, her best friend. When she looks back to him, he smiles softly and, remembering what his daddy always told him was polite, nods. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." She smiles once more before moving on, leaving him to sit alone again.

With nothing to do, Damocles starts to color in whatever spaces are still white on his cards for his mom and dad. Cassia sure is taking too long to give cards, but she seems happy whenever he watches her, so he doesn't hurry her up.

When Miss EDI approaches, a box in her hand, he flutters his mandibles in surprise. He doesn't think he did anything wrong today, but there always seems to be something he does that grown ups don't like. Sometimes it's fun, but that's when he knows he's doing something bad. The other times, when he doesn't know what he's done, though, aren't very fun and he hopes this isn't one of them.

"Damocles," Miss EDI says, tilting her head as she smiles that warm smile she always seems to have for him and Cassia. "I got you a present."

She bends down so he doesn't have to look up at her and lays a small red box on his desk. Reaching for it, Damocles rumbles in curiosity, not knowing what it is. He's seen some of the other kids give each other boxes like this, but neither he nor his sister have gotten any yet. It's because of that that he's shocked when he opens it to see five pieces of chocolate inside and he trills in happy excitement as he grins to her.

Then he realizes something, and a frown drops his mandibles. "But what about Cassia?"

Miss EDI chuckles softly and nods once. "I have a box for Cassia on my desk. I will give it to her once she returns from handing out her Valentine's." Standing, she lays a hand on his shoulder. "Happy Valentine's Day, Damocles."

He nods in return, purring softly as he stares down at his gift. "Thank you, Auntie EDI." He was told it's not fair to call her auntie when in school because it could upset the other kids and get them to be even more mean to him and Cassia, but they aren't around, so he lets himself add a warm vocal chirp to his words of thanks.

She doesn't seem mad at that as her smile doesn't fade and she instead pats his shoulder before returning to her little desk. The desk isn't really for her to sit, because she doesn't need to sit because she's a robot, but it does hold all her things for teaching and, special for today, his sister's present for today. He thinks that's why she's standing there now instead of walking the room, to protect Cassia's chocolates so that the other kids don't steal it.

When Cassia runs out of her cards with Gelta being the last one she gives to - and gives her own little box where Damocles knows she made a friendship bracelet for the present - she returns to her desk and trills in joy at all the cards she has. She grabs them and starts to count, and Damocles knows that, even though they were told to, not all of the other students gave her cards even though they brought some for the rest of the class and their friends. Still, Cassia doesn't seem to care as she opens and starts to read each one.

While busy reading her cards, Miss EDI comes over with Cassia's box of chocolates. "Cassia?" When she looks up, Miss EDI takes one of Cassia's hands in hers and lays the small box on it. "Happy Valentine's Day, little Vakarian," their aunt says with a chuckle, using the words to make Cassia, and even Damocles, smile a little. "You showed great generosity today without expecting anything in return. I am proud of you."

"What's generosity?" Cassia looks to Damocles, rumbling in confusion, but he doesn't know what it means either and shrugs.

"I means being kind and giving," Miss EDI answers and crosses her hands behind her back. "Your parents will be very proud as well."

Someone calls Miss EDI away just as Cassia flickers her mandibles shyly and Damocles rumbles for his sister, happy for her to get compliments. Gelta even returns with a big smile and, as soon as she looks through her gifts, finds the box from Cassia, and opens it to find the bracelet she braided, squeals and jumps from her seat. Running around to Cassia's side, she wraps her arms around Damocles' sister and squeezes tight, making excited noises but not really saying any words.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Gelta squeals again and hugs Cassia before holding her hand out. "Can you put it on?"

Cassia grins and nods before taking the bracelet. It's colorful with their favorite colors, purple for Cassia and orange for Gelta, and it matche the one his sister wears too. It looks a bite big for her wrist, but Damocles thinks his sister made it that way for a reason. He's sure he heard mommy say something to Cassia when she was making it, but he wasn't paying attention to it. Still, the bracelet wraps around Gelta's wrist a few times and ties together, so Cassia must have meant to do that.

Not able to give anything to the two girls, and not wanting to really have a girly bracelet, Damocles stands up to take his Valentine's to his backpack in his cubby. It's almost time to go home anyways, so the faster he can leave and go home, the better for him. This way, he just has to wait for Cassia and Gelta to get ready, but he sometimes he can force them to hurry up if he's already done. At least, he thinks, he doesn't have to wait for them to get all their gifts together because he can already see them stacking the cards together into a neat pile, sharing their Valentine's with each other.

They share so much that he isn't really surprised anymore.

When Miss EDI returns to the room after walking through the older classes, she stands before the entire class and makes a rumbling noise like mom does when trying to get Damocles and his sister's attention. It must be a sound everyone is used to as the all the kids stop talking and laughing. Miss EDI waits a second before smiling, crossing her hands behind her back, and saying, "Today has been a very enlightening day, and one that has let us all share in a human holiday. Perhaps, next year, we can add other cultures' traditions into the event and make it something even more special." She nods once and smiles. "We are done for today. I would like to thank you all for being so generous today with your gifts. I will see you after the weekend break."

Everyone jumps out of their desks fast, sometimes even bumping into each other. Rushing to their cubbies to grab their backpacks, a lot of them block the way as they stuff their presents into their bags. Damocles, his sister, and her friend wait until he can push through the others and grab their bags. Cassia is too nice to push and usually wants to wait for the other kids to move, but Damocles really doesn't want to stay here, so she waits for him with Gelta.

He comes back with the three backpacks and hands Cassia's Blasto and Elviria backpack to her and Gelta her pink and flowery one. His is already ready and one his back before they even get all their stuff packed away, and he hops from foot to foot, wanting to be outside in the open instead of in this small room alone. At least outside, he can be warm and see the sun even if they are with a bunch of kids waiting for their parents to walk them home because they aren't old enough to walk on their own like the oldest class. Damocles and Cassia usually have to wait until either Gelta's daddy or brother take them home, or until Miss EDI can walk them home once every other kid goes home.

Damocles moves to sit on  _his_ rock by the far corner of the school house. It is far enough to stay away from the other kids, but close enough so that Miss EDI doesn't get mad at him for being where she can't watch him. The other kids used to like to sit up here, but, ever since he started sitting on it before they had a chance to make it outside on some days, they stopped. He guesses they thought it was gross now because he sits on it, but that's okay to him.

_It's just my rock now._

From his rock, he can watch his sister and Gelta play only a little bit away from him. They sometimes want to sit with him, and he lets them, but they get bored and Gelta says it's too hot, so it's not everyday. Right now, they are sharing some of the candy Gelta got from the classmates as they play with some of the dolls they usually bring in their backpacks. He doesn't like girly games, but it's fun to watch them laugh and walk their dolls across the green grass.

It's good that the yard outside of the school is mostly grass and there are small rocks by Damocles' because sand would make a mess and they'd all have to take a bath when they got home, but it also means that Cassia doesn't have to worry about her favorite doll, a human would long yellow hair and a red dress, getting dirty. She once took some of her others outside to the beach and they got to where they couldn't move and she got sad. No matter what, mommy and daddy couldn't clean them, so Damocles and his sister learned not to take their favorite toys outside to the sand again.

Pulling his backpack to his lap, Damocles opens it and digs out the box of chocolates Auntie EDI gave him. The candies are small, maybe a bite each, but he knows that's because his mom and dad want them to eat dinner before chocolates or sweets. They are usually okay with a little bit, maybe with their after school snack, so he isn't afraid of trying one.

Popping a dark colored candy into his mouth, he chews it and chirps at the taste. It tastes like fruit on the inside - one of the sour oranges that are so much work to peel - and the darker chocolate mommy sometimes likes to eat instead of the normal chocolate. He takes the time to enjoy the taste, humming and clicking his mandibles before it becomes too mushy and he has to swallow. Lifting his chin, he lets it slide down his throat.

Suddenly, he hears the sharp cry of his sister and he snaps his head down, coughing a bit as some of the wet chocolate didn't go down. He wipes at some that spilled out of his mouth and onto his mandible with his sleeve before standing up to see what's made his sister upset.

His sister cries softly, her favorite doll broken in her hands as an older, bigger kid stands above her. The krogan laughs loud enough that he has to tilt his head back, and Damocles recognizes the boy immediately. He's supposed to be special because he's older than them and older than them krogans are some kind of good luck or something. He doesn't care one bit, though, and jumps off his rock.

"What's the matter, whelp? Did I step on your  _human_ dolly?" The boy laughs again, yanking the toy out of Cassia's hands and throwing it back to the ground to stomp on it some more. Cassia cries out louder, vocals keening as she jerks back at the loud snap. "What's wrong? Too ashamed of what you are that you have to play with human toys?"

Damocles shoves some of the krogan's friends out of the way even though they are bigger than him. "Leave her alone," he growls, making fists with his hands as a strange tingling starts to tickle his plates.

"Or what?" The krogan leans down to stare Damocles in the eyes as he makes an angry face. "What will you do, freak?" He uses a big hand to shove Damocles back, making him stumble a step, and that makes the kid laugh. "Look at you. Just like your  _daddy_. All talk and no action." He leans back and crosses his arms, half smiling. "You don't have the quads."

Cassia sniffles, not really crying tears like mommy, but her keens loud enough to hurt Damocles' ears, and the sound makes him even madder. "You're a fucking jerk!" Damocles doesn't hear his sister say bad words too much, but he knows that one and grins in glee at his sister, but the krogan boy only gets madder.

"Shut up, you little bitch!" The boy uses his foot to push Cassia, making her use her hands to catch her fall.

Instantly and before the krogan can react, Damocles growls with his vocals and screams. Tingling feeling growing into a fiery feeling as he balls his fist and punches the boy. His hand is covered in a bluish black smoke as he watches it smash into the krogan's nose and the boy flies to the ground with a loud crash and orange on his face. The boy grunts as the other gasp in surprise, and Damocles knows he's going to get in trouble, but can't seem to care. Still seeing himself covered in that weird smoke and feeling the rush of when he eats too much sugar throughout his body, he rushes for the boy, but a hand grabbing his wrist pulls him to a stop him.

He looks down and the looks of worry on his sister's face makes that tingling feeling go away so fast he feels tired. "Miss EDI's coming," she says, her mandibles fluttering in fright as she looks to the boy. His friends are quickly backing away as she frowns. "What'd you do?"

"He deserved it," Damocles says loud enough for Miss EDI to hear as she comes over with a frown she often wears when scolding someone in class. "He was being mean to Cassia."

"That does not validate violence." Moving to the krogan boy, she offers a hand up, but he hits it away and gets to his feet on his own. "I will have to contact your parents." She looks to the twins and frowns, her eyes sad. "Both of your parents."

Cassia rumbles sadly and releases Damocles' hand, but he doesn't move or get sad. He knows what he did was right and he knows that, no matter what, he doesn't deserve to get in trouble. Anyone who gets mad just doesn't understand what it's like.

 _No one understands what it's like to be me and Cassia._ _ **No one**_.

"Cassia, Damocles, and Srack. Follow me." Miss EDI points a hand towards the upper porch of the schoolhouse. "I need to contact your parents."

"Okay, Miss EDI," Cassia says softly, looking to her friend before dipping her head and quietly collecting the broken pieces of her toy.

Damocles can't stop the angry and sharp look he gives the krogan boy and gets one back, but he won. He knocked the boy down and made him bleed, so he won no matter what punishment he gets. Next time, he will be harder if the boy, Srack, tries it again. That, and the other kids will know better than to be mean to Cassia.

Miss EDI places them on one side of the porch and Srack on the other. Both boys stare in anger at the other, but Damocles also stares in hate for the boy that broke his sister's favorite toy and has left her in keens and sniffles even now. She doesn't deserve to be punished when she was the one without her toy, a toy that  _Srack_  broke and laughed about. Not to mention the mean word he called her that finally made Damocles punch the krogan hard enough to knock the bigger boy down.

After all the other kids have gone, Miss EDI - because she's not their auntie right now because she won't listen to Damocles and Cassia - uses her omnitool to call Damocles, Cassia, and Srack's mommies and daddies. Even though he knows he didn't do wrong, he can't help the anxious tickling in his chest at the sad looks on their faces. All he can do is hope they understand.

Damocles' mom and dad are first to arrive. They come to Miss EDI and talk with her just out of where Damocles can hear what's happening. He looks to his sister as they wait and watches her look out towards the little city they call home. When her eyes suddenly widen and look away, down to her toy's pieces in her hands, Damocles looks to see what's made her so scared.

Stomping towards them is a pair of grown up krogan. One is green like Rym and the other, the mommy, has orange colored plates just like Scrack. Damocles also thinks they must be Srack's parents because they both have anger on their faces and in their heavy steps as they come towards the schoolhouse.

Reaching out, Damocles takes his sister's hand and squeezes. "It's okay. Don't be scared."

"I'm not scared." Cassia takes a deep breath and lowers her keens. "I don't think you did anything wrong."

"Me too," he says, rumbling strongly at what he knows is true.

"What the fuck did your little bastards do?!" The dad krogan comes to Damocles' parents, and he thinks the man will push his dad, but he doesn't.

Damocles can even hear his daddy's snarl as he turns from Miss EDI to the krogan. "They defended themselves." He looks to Damocles and Cassia, waving a hand for them to come over. They do, hearing their daddy say, "And I don't doubt they'll prove my suspicions."

The mommy krogan snorts as Srack almost runs to her. "Your kids will say anything to blame our son."

Mommy doesn't say anything to them when Damocles and his sister come to her. Instead, she makes a mean frown and looks to both of the krogan who stand so much taller than her. "You're telling me your  _older_ kid would just let a little boy beat his ass for the fun of it? You're so full of bullshit it's coming out of your ears."

"Srack doesn't cause any trouble." The dad pokes a finger at mommy, but she swats it away. "They no doubt learned from you both."

Daddy steps between Srack's dad and mommy. "Touch her again and you'll learn what happens when you touch any of my family." When the man snorts, as if he won, daddy looks to Cassia. "Cassia, can you tell us what happened?"

"What makes you think we'll believe your whelp?" The mommy krogan lays a hand on Srack's back. "We should have Srack's side."

"Alright." Mommy crosses her arms. "How do you explain the broken toy in my daughter's hands?"

Srack pretends to be sad and dips his head before stepping closer to his mom. "It was an accident. I said I was sorry, but Damocles attacked me." He looks up to his mother before his dad. "He used biotics to punch me in the face. I think he broke my nose because I heard a snap and it was bleeding."

The dad gets extra angry at that even though Srack's nose looks just like it did before, not even bleeding anymore. "This is the last fucking straw! You're bastard freak used biotics on my son!"

Mommy drops her hands and starts to glow blue. "Call my son a bastard  _or_ a freak again and you'll see what real biotics can do."

"Not to mention how I can show you all the ways to take out your kind with me bare hands," Daddy adds, a deep growl coming off him like he's a speaker.

All the parents stare at each other before Miss EDI steps between them, using her hands to push them apart. "We have heard Srack's side of the story. It is time for Cassia and Damocles'." Looking down to them even though Srack's dad snorts and crosses his arms, still mad, Miss EDI smiles and nods at Cassia. "Go ahead, Cassia."

Cassia grips her broken toy as she looks up to mommy and daddy. "Me and Gelta were playing in the grass when he came over and started asking her where her 'stupid fucking brother' was. She was scared and said she didn't know." She frowns and looks to him with an angry face. "I told him to leave her alone when he started to try and grab the toy out of her hands, grabbing it too, but he only pushed me and stepped on my toy instead-"

"That's a lie!"

Mommy looks to the krogan mom and moves her chin towards Srack. "Keep your kid quiet. We were quiet when he told his story. Show some respect."

"He'll do whatever the hell he wants-"

Miss EDI stops the krogan dad with a raised hand. When he goes quiet, she looks back to Damocles' sister. "Continue, please."

"He broke her," Cassia says, holding her toy up to their mommy and daddy. Mommy frowns and gently takes the pieces, holding them in her hands but not saying anything. Instead, she nods and Cassia keeps going. "I screamed and that's when Damocles came over. He told Srack to leave me alone and he started saying mean things." Damocles knows what's next and watches his sister trill in worry as she almost whispers. "I called him a 'fucking jerk', but he pushed me." She looks to him. "That's when Damocles punched him. But he didn't mean it!" she adds quickly, chirping at mommy and daddy.

Their parents looked down to them and Damocles couldn't really understand their faces. They didn't really look sad or mad, but not happy either. Almost like they were thinking. Afraid for his sister, Damocles steps forward and lifts his chin. "I did mean it. He was being mean and I wanted to protect Cassia."

"This is all lies," Srack's mother says, looking at Miss EDI. "You can't honestly believe this shit!"

"Judging by the state of Cassia's toy, I believe Srack was the one to begin this conflict." She looks down to Cassia. "And I believe Cassia's story. I have no reason to believe she, of all people, would lie no matter the consequence." Turning to the adults just as the krogan begin to growl in anger, she lifts a finger. "But, because this is a situation in which one side says opposite of the other, there is no true solution but to administer punishment to each side." She looks between Srack and Damocles, and Damocles lowers his mandibles in sadness for not being believed. "You are suspended from school for the next week." Back to the parents. "Damocles and Srack are not allowed to join the classes for said time, but must still complete designated assignments at home."

Srack's parents shake their head as they make wordless sounds, but daddy and mommy simply nod in 'okay'. But that must not make the krogan happy as they look to Damocles and make a very angry, hateful face. "I want you both," he says, looking up to mommy and daddy, "to make amends for your runt."

"Okay," mommy says, and Damocles almost worries until he sees her half smile, "As soon as your  _runt_  replaces my daughter's toy.  _Accident_ or not, he still broke it with his fat foot."

The dad makes a fist and steps forward, but daddy's warning growl stops him. The dad looks to daddy, then mommy, before stepping back in place. "Let's go, Kura. We don't have to put up with this shit."

Even though they all got in trouble, the krogan family are still very mad when they pound their feet down the steps and away from the schoolhouse. When they are finally gone, Miss EDI looks to daddy and mommy, a frown on her face. "Garrus, Shepard. There needs to be a talk of responsibility concerning violence as a reaction to bullying."

Mommy raises a brow. "So they're supposed to accept being pushed around? Don't they put up with enough shit?"

"If I allow them to reciprocate with violence, I must allow the entire school to." She shakes her head and crosses her hands behind her back. "They are my family, but I must be fair to protect every student's right to learn in a safe environment."

Mommy sighs and looks to daddy, neither speaking. They still seem to talk to each other, though, as daddy soon nods and looks down to Damocles. Kneeling down to face both him and Cassia, daddy lays a hand on Damocles' shoulder. His voice is soft and rumbling as he talks. "Son, you must understand that violence is not the answer."

"But-"

Daddy shakes his head. "No protest. You must accept this punishment and not do this again. Understand?"

Confused and hurt that his choice to defend his sister is wrong, Damocles frowns and ducks his head. His vocals are gone so he doesn't get mad as he whispers. "Yes, daddy."

"Alright, now that that bullshit is over, let's go home." Mommy waves Cassia over and opens her backpack, places the toy pieces inside. Next, she offers her hand to Damocles and, surprised, he takes a second before finally taking the friendly hand holding. Cassia takes daddy's hand as they walk down the steps and towards home.

He's still mad at his dad, and, when daddy steps to his other side, he refuses to look up at him. How he could be so wrong hurts and Damocles thought his parents would forgive and understand more than anyone.

"Damocles?" At his dad's voice, he looks up and readies for more scolding. Instead, he sees a smile and hears a soothing rumble. "I'm sorry I had to pretend to get mad at you."

"Pretend?" Damocles tilts his head, rumbling in confusion. "Why?"

Mommy squeezes his hand. "Most parents think that fighting back is wrong. We think that's a load of shit."

Damocles sees his dad nod, looking from Damocles on one side to Cassia on the other. "But there is a rule to this. Don't start the fight, just be the one to finish it." He looks to Damocles and offers a hand, which the little turian takes quickly. "If you hurt people first, you are no better than Srack and other bullies."

Damocles can't believe what he hears, can't believe his daddy was just pretending to get mad at him. He looks to mommy to see if daddy is pretending again and asks, "Really?"

Mommy nods and smiles. "Under one condition." Damocles frowns, rumbling in worry, but his mom doesn't stop smiling. "You're 'punishment' is going to be learning." He groans and she and daddy chuckle. "Not like that. We're going to teach you just like we did with shooting."

Damocles' eyes widen as he looks to his sister, then back to going between mommy and daddy. "What about Cassia?"

"If she wants to join." Daddy chuckles and looks to her, and Damocles sees her grin and nod as she chirps in excitement. "Then it's settled. I'll start teaching you how to spar and mommy will begin to work with you on biotics and control."

Damocles stops in his steps and the others have to too, looking to him with curious looks. Grinning, he hugs first daddy's leg, then mommy. He can't really say any words, too excited to be able to start to learn grown up things and be more like his parents, but his mom and dad seem to understand and chuckle each, patting his back.

"Now," mommy says. "Let's get some food to restore your reserves."

Damocles doesn't know what that means, but food sounds good, so he nods fast, grabs their hands, and pulls them towards home.


	14. Thunder 7/2191

With Garrus and Cassia off to the shooting range to practice her rifle work one-on-one, Jane can use all her attention to teach Damocles how to better his biotic control. Ever since his schoolyard fight with the krogan boy - who was  _older_ and much bigger than himself - she and Garrus have been working with the twins on both physical and biotic control. Damocles more so than Cassia, but it didn't hurt for her to learn alongside her brother and have that step above all the other children. Hell, at the rate they're learning in just these few months, they can soon be able to out fight many of the older children if there ever comes a problem.

That's if Damocles can fight his frustration enough to learn to concentrate his energy into something useful and not just a burst of uncontrolled power whenever he's angry.

Arcanus had said he'd help in working with the twins on their defensive biotics, but Jane knew they'd have to master being able to command their biotics into any sort of control before they can start to build on defense and offense. If they just jumped right into it, she is sure that their house wouldn't survive the biotic fallout. Once they master bottling their energy into something functional, then - and only then - will she begin teaching things like pulling, lifting, or throwing objects with their biotics and sending them off to their kunkle for work on their barriers and ability to break through that of their enemies.

Practicing like this and drawing on her training in Basic Biotic Control Training when she was at the beginnings of her military career in the Alliance, Jane can actually tell she, herself, is learning better focus. Over the years, she just never thought about the lessons of calming control, only the thought of unleashing biotics in battle and never looking at them off the field. They were tiring enough when trying to save hers or someone else's ass, she didn't need to waste more energy doing fancy shit with them on her down time. With Damocles and Cassia looking to her for guidance, however, even she is changing old habits and becoming a better, more focused biotic.

Still, she can see a direct mirror of her own past frustrations in her son's face as he, once again, fails to fails to cloud himself in biotics without causing it to radiate out in a burst of force. Sitting in front of him, Jane's barrier takes the brunt and easily dissipates the push. She's gotten used to the fact that two untrained botics can easily blow her off her feet - or, in this case, ass - if she doesn't take precautions to deflect their biotics. This way, she can still be close enough to let them watch how she moves in her focus, and she can in turn keep an eye on them should she need to correct any of the posture or adjust her own instructions.

Damocles once more tries to bottle up and project his energy as bare wisps of dark blue waves encompassing his tiny form, but his building upset makes it only harder on the poor kid. As result, he barely manages to hold his shroud before it bursts into a circular force in all directions. Thankfully, they are practicing in the training room with plenty of room, and heavy enough workout equipment to withstand the brunt of the attack, so all that results from the unintentional attack is his angry growl and smash of his hands on the mat.

She frowns and lets out the deep breath she was trying to use to coax him into relaxing his breathing and calm his nerves. Looking to him, she watches him staring at the floor between their sitting forms, glaring at it as if his eyes could burn holes through the practice mat and through the cement beneath. His hands are fisted tight enough for her to worry about his talons against his palms and he chest heaves, mandibles rigid to his jaw, and she can see the frustration and rage written all over his tiny face.

Leaning forward, she reaches out and takes his hands from his sides. "It's okay, little man," she says as she strokes her thumb against his fists to try and coax them to relax and open, "Rome wasn't built in a day."

Her son's face scrunches and she watches confusion wash away some of his irritation as he looks up to her. "What's 'Rome'?"

Jane's mouth opens in surprise, not really sure of the place beyond the saying and what she's seen in the vids. She can only say what she knows and hope he understands well enough. "It's a big, fancy and old city. It's got a bunch of fancy buildings and stuff in it that took a lot of time to build. Hence why the saying says it wasn't built in a day. I means you can't learn everything and be perfect at it without it taking practice. And practice takes time, honey."

"But I'm not doing it." He ducks his head, mandibles fluttering as he keens in what she knows is only a sound of sadness.

Her heart shatters at his sense of defeat and frowns deeply. "Oh, baby." Reaching out, she wraps her arms around him and pulls him into her lap. She wraps her arms around him and reaches down to take his hands. The small lines of blue in his palms make her teeter on the edge of crying, and she takes his hands in hers, careful to keep his palms up and away from any touch. "It's okay." Kissing his head, she nuzzles his short, still curled down fringe. "I'll tell you a secret." She lowers her voice and whispers to him. "Mommy sucked so bad when she was learning. Hell, you're a million times better."

He sniffles and shifts to look up at her, bright eyes glistening in his distraught state. "Really?"

She nods and smiles, kissing his forehead. "Oh, yeah. You blow me out of the water and I was easily double your age." Chuckling, she releases one of his hands to cup his cheek. "I was in the Alliance already and getting my ass wiped by my instructors. And I was an  _adult_." She snorts, saying, "An 'old lady', like you and Cassia like to say."

Finally, he smiles softly and clicks in happiness. He doesn't say anything, but turns in her lap and hugs her tightly. She loves his warm purrs and wraps her arms around his body, rubbing his back in soothing circles. Even now, his body is warm and still charged with energy from his biotics, but he isn't stressed enough for them to hurt. In time, they'll even dissipate and he'll be 'safe' to the touch for nonbiotics.

As she feels him relax in her arms, Jane sits back and looks down into his eyes, smiling. "How about we call it, at least for now. You need some rest and refuel." He nods softly and scoots out of her lap, but she reaches out and gently takes his hands to finally get a good look. Four little crescents cut into his palms, drawing the faintest sign of his cobalt blood. Jane sighs sadly and frowns as she looks up into his eyes. "But first we take care of these boo boos before your biotics drain and they start to hurt."

"Okay, mommy." His voice is soft as she releases his hands to get up. Damocles is on his feet and ready to leave the training room even before she gets to her own feet, and that only makes her feel old.

_Damn fake legs and slowing me down._

She knows she's probably being utterly petulant about the fact that, sometimes, her legs need lubricating or they tense up sometimes - this being one of those times - but dammit if she doesn't want to complain about something, even if it's only inwardly. Brushing off her ass once she's up, she lays a hand on her son's shoulder before walking over to the medkit here in the training room. It's well stocked -  _thank you, Garrus, and your paranoid preparedness -_ and she easily finds some medigel and bandages to wrap Damocles' hands in.

Her son hisses when she squeezes the antiseptic gel onto his palms, but her smile seems to stop his cry out in pain as he seems to look to her for strength. With the distraction, she can use her fingers to smear the gel over the four cuts before grabbing the bandage and wrapping it a few times around each hand. "There," she says once done and sets the medkit back on the wall before turning to him. "And the final step?" She smiles and takes his hands in her own, lifting them to her lips to gently kiss the bandage. "A kiss to make you feel all better."

Damocles' mandibles spread in a wide grin as he giggles softly and curls his fingers in her hands to hold them before letting go. Turning to the door, he gives her a look that clearly asks when the hell they're going to finally get out of this place and off to do something fun. For Damocles, that usually means getting into trouble, but Jane sees little wrong in that. So long as he's ultimately safe.

She chuckles and opens the door, letting him run out and into the hall first. "How about you see how Xero is? I'm sure he's ready to go potty."

Damocles can't seem to move fast enough as he runs for the small bathroom they've cleaned of anything destructible for the varren to stay in while the family is away or otherwise unable to keep a stern eye on him. Now, why the kids named the varren after a superhero  _dog_  from a cartoon they like to watch, she can't quite determine, but she and Garrus stepped back and let them do as they wanted because it is, technically, the twins' varren. Plus, above all, their son in particular absolutely  _adores_ the pet, so whatever name he wants - that Cassia will also agree to - is fine by her. More so, is  _supported_ full heartedly.

Jane stops to stand at the large glass doors that lead out to the deck, gazing out over the beach and into the darkened sky. She sighs, knowing that rain will come. It doesn't rain too often in this region of Virmire, but when it does, it often pours from a nearly black sky with the roar of thunder and bright blasts of lightning piercing through the clouds. While not a huge factor in biotics, it could be a partial reason Damocles was having such a hard time earlier concentrating, as the electricity in the air during storms used to make her unfocused when she was still getting used to the concept of biotics.

Speaking of, Damocles waddles over with his arms full of squirming varren and a huge grin on his face. She chuckles at him and opens the door for him to lead the way with Xero into letting the varren relieve itself before it makes a massive mess in the house. A mess that would be sure to piss Garrus off and send him into a pissy pout. Jane chuckles at the imagine of her grown mate pouting like one of the twins when they don't get their way and closes the door behind her as she follows their son out across the deck.

"Let's hope he hurries," she says to no one in particular since she's damn sure the varren doesn't give two shits whether or not they're caught in the rain. "Wouldn't want to get wet, right?" She looks down Damocles as he sets the pup down in the grass. He doesn't seem to hear her, but that's just as well. She knows her son enough to know he absolutely abhors when a storm comes, from the sound of the thunder scaring him to it being the reason he can't go out and play. "Want to head inside and I'll make sure he goes? That way, if it does start to pour, you won't get wet?"

Damocles doesn't look to her, his eyes looking nowhere in particular as his nose wiggles as he takes in the pre-rain heightened scent of the beach in the air. She wonders just how much her husband and children can smell in the air in these moments, not quite able to share the experience with her puny human nose, but she's sure it must be as soothing as the lessened one she picks up. Her son wouldn't have the pleased look on his face if it didn't.

"Damocles?" When he looks to her, she smiles warmly and tilts her head. "Want to head in and let me take care of Xero?" Remembering the lessons of responsibility they've been trying to drill into their children's thick skulls and how her offer might be confusing, she adds, "It's okay. You don't have to get wet taking him."

"But…" His mandibles flicker as he looks to Xero hopping into the grass after something. "But he's mine. You and daddy said we have to take care of him if we want to keep him."

She wants to say that that's really an empty threat to take away the puppy should they not step up and help care for it, that she and Garrus would never think of taking away something Damocles, especially, fell in love with. She can't really say what she's thinking, however, because what kind of fucked up mixed signals would that be?

Instead, she nods and lays a hand on his back. "But if it starts to rain and he isn't done, you go inside. Okay?" She gives him a stern look to make sure he understands it isn't really a choice. "I don't want you getting sick."

He looks at the point of protesting, but he simply juts his chin before nodding, giving into her despite his every intention to deny her out of sheer principal. The very idea makes her struggle to hide her smirk at his attempts to be defiant just for the hell of it, and she thinks back to just  _where_ he may have gotten that trait. Taking herself and his father into consideration, he probably learned it from both of them.

_Jesus. How's he going to be as an adult? More stubborn than a krogan, and thicker skulled too._

Just as Xero squats to -  _finally_ \- go, the first few sprinkles fall. Jane feels their chill against her bared shoulders and a few drops land on her head to drip through her hair and onto her scalp. She shivers at the only kind of 'cold' to ever grace this tropical planet and sees her son do much the same at her side, wrapping his arms around himself. Neither of them is really suited for standing out in the rain with their loose workout clothes meant to give them air against their skin when their bodies heat up from exertion.

"Alright, young man. In the house." She pats his back and nudges him back towards the house, but he fights her, eyes watching Xero as the pup finishes up.

"But, mommy… He's done…"

"We won't leave him out here, but like hell if I'm going to be drying us  _all_ off just because you're being a little shit." Chuckling, she playfully swats his rear and he yelps, giggling as he rushes off and towards the steps to the deck.

Smiling at him, still stubborn as hell, merely standing at the bottom step, Jane shakes her head and walks over to the varren to pick him up. The white and blue pup's mouth falls open as if in a smile of his own as she pets him over his wide head and still stubby spines. She lays a hand on her son's head when she closes in on him and jerks her chin in direction to climb up ahead of her. Taking the steps two at a time, Damocles will glance at her over his shoulder before finally reaching the flat of the deck and hopping on his feet, arms out for Xero and eyes pleaing.

"Alright, alright." Jane snorts as she gives the puppy over to Damocles and all but pushes him in with her hands on his shoulders just as the rain begins to truly pour down.

They're pelted just enough to soak their few pieces of clothes and make the hairs on her bared - and mostly bared - arms and legs. Her son managed to not get as much rain, but he still shivers in a human gesture of heat conservation and one that his father isn't quite capable of.

_I hope he and Cassia found somewhere dry and warm over there where they are._

Damocles sets Xero down to shake off all the water droplets from his body, and her son laughs with his hands up against the onslaught of thrown water. Jane snorts and leans down to kiss his chilled fringe. "Make sure he doesn't get on the furniture yet."

"Okay, mommy." She hears him say as she walks towards the downstairs bathroom to grab towels.

It isn't a moment before she hears the sharp crack of thunder and the scream of her son intermingled with the sound. Jane quickly grabs the towels from the shelf and runs out just as he crashes right into her legs. She unintentionally knocks him to the ground by the force of their collision and he lands with a heavy thump, Xero unhelpfully climbing into his lap.

"Oh, baby," she says, tossing the towels on the floor and kneeling before him with a frown and pang in her chest at causing pain to her own son. "I'm so sorry." She pulls him into her arms and grabs a towel from the heap to wrap him in. "Please forgive me."

"I'm scared, mommy," he whimpers as she rubs the towel over his fringe and arms, fighting to get him dry and warm with his hands trying to grab and cling to her. "Mommy… mommy…"

Jane sits and pulls him into her lap, holding him tightly to her chest. How can she help him from his fear of something as natural and uncontrollable as bad weather? And, what's worse, she can't remember her own childhood enough to know the fear, to even begin to know how to fix this. Add to that that her mother was a horrible woman who didn't give a fuck about how her own daughter felt or what was needed to soothe the pain or fright of everyday life? How could her mother have ever help overcome fears when she, herself, caused so many of them?

"Shh, shh. It's okay." She whispers comforting sounds of nothing to him, grabbing another towel to wrap around him to offer the warmth and feeling of safety. "It's not going to hurt-"

Another crack and he cries out, vocals and voice piercing as he claws at her. She deals with the knicks of his talons and thinks distantly about needing to help him trim them, but it all means nothing to the current panic of being completely lost. Certainly Garrus would know what to do, but she can't really stop Damocles from being scared just so she can call him up.

_Why did I ever think I could be a mother?_

Damocles keens in stress as he sniffles and clings to her, hands kneading her flesh and the towels in fright. All she can do is try to fix this in the now, and worry about the consequences or what she does wrong later, so she shifts them to get to her knees. Using the muscles of what little of her thighs remain and the mechanics of her artificial legs, Jane gets to her feet and heads for the living room. She trusts Xero to be at her heels, the pup never far from Damocles at any time the varren can help it.

The storm outside is dark and powerful enough to leave the sea in nothing but the white caps of raging waves. Rain pours down in sheets across the deck and beach beyond, but Jane knows Virmire will survive. It always does. Almost as if it lives a life so much like those of the people who have called this world home.

She takes Damocles to the couch and sits with him still in her arms, his side to her chest and towels wrapped tightly around his tiny body to keep him warm and feeling safe. Watching the storm outside, and grateful that most of the lightning is breaking across the sky far enough away that the thunder reaches them as a bare trace of rumbling, Jane rubs her son through the towel in attempt to get him dry even if she can't get his clothes off at this moment.

His whimpers break her heart as he glares out at the rain, as if condemning it. She blinks away tears as she presses her forehead to his temple plate, trying to think of something to say. All she can think of is what she had to do to her monsters, the only thing that was left to do.

 _To fight_.

"Damocles?" She tilts her head to look down on him. "Do you know what I do to something that scares me?" He looks to her, eyes glistening and vocals keening in fright, and shakes his head. "I get mad. I fight back." Looking up to the large glass pane doors, she motions with her chin to the storm. "Don't let this stupid storm see you scared. Get angry." She smiles back down to him. "You yell back at the thunder, show it it can't do a damn thing to you."

He frowns. "But…"

She shakes her head. "No 'buts'. 'But' is just a word." She smiles and stands up, holding him to her hip. He grows more tense with each step towards the windows, but she doesn't let him falter and allows her strength in her embrace give him courage. "Just remember, scream back in rage. Teach that thunder who's boss." When he seems to falter again, she leans her head closer to his own. "I'll be right here, screaming with you."

He pulls his mandibles tight to his chin and gives one solid nod. Not a moment too soon, either, as - almost immediately and seemingly out of challenge - lightning shoots across the sky and throw a bright light across the living room. Thunder cracks before the resulting glare in her vision dissipates and Damocles flinches a moment before she looks to him and nods once.

Both turn to the window and scream, and she can hear his frustrations from the entire day in his practical roar that drowns out her own shout. It doesn't last long before his voice seems to just cut off and his mandibles flicker as he looks to her, almost as if he's looking for approval. Knowing he did better than she'd have imagined by just following instinct in trying to help him, Jane smiles and hugs him tight.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispers as she kisses his cheek. "Don't you  _ever_ let that thunder scare you." Hearing his happy purr and feeling his nuzzle against her shoulder, she tilts her head to lay on his own. "Be strong, be fearless."

"Will I be a hero like you and daddy?"

She chuckles softly and nods, setting him down as he wiggles to be let go. "You will be a greater hero." Rubbing his fringe playfully, she kneels down and pets Xero. "And your first person to rescue?" She picks up Xero and puts him in Damocles' hands. "He's scared of the thunder too. He needs you to be strong, just like your superheroes."

Damocles grins and hugs Xero to his chest. "I will protect you, Xero."

Xero seems to grin again as he makes a strange mix of chirp and bark, tongue lolling out. Jane chuckles and rubs the varren's head before looking to her son. "Go get into something warm and I'll make something to eat. Then, we can watch movies and cartoons all day until the storm stops."

Grinning and trilling in excitement, her son lets out a yelp of joy before rushing to the stairs and leaving Jane to shake her head at the child's ability to switch emotions so quickly. She envies that, the 'live in the moment' attitude, and hopes, in time, he and Cassia can teach her that.


	15. Halloween 10/2191

When all the kids in school got excited about a holiday named 'Halloween', Damocles and his sister went to their mom and dad to ask what it was. Daddy didn't seem to know, but what mommy said surprised Damocles and Cassia so much they couldn't even talk.

Getting to dress up and play pretend  _and get free candy?_  It must be their birthday! No. Christmas! Maybe even  _better_ than Christmas and their birthday together!

Mommy and daddy said it was good that they asked before too long because now they could get costumes just like they always wanted. Damocles must have spent a million hours looking at the extranet with Cassia on daddy's computer so they could find costumes, but they found the perfect costume. Mommy had the clothes lady in the Wraith city that always makes their clothes fit better make them the costumes they wanted and Damocles couldn't wait until he could dress up, go out trick or treating, and get lots of candy.

And mommy and daddy would actually let them eat it that night too!

"Dammit," Mommy says, puffing out a breath that makes her hair fly off her face, and Damocles giggles at her trying to help Cassia get into her costume. "Why did you have to pick an outfit that makes no sense?"

Cassia smiles up at their mom as she holds the grey dress thing for Cassia in both hands, holding it up and pulled out. "I wanted to be a wizard." She looks to Damocles as they both say without actually speaking 'duh' to each other.

"This robe makes no damn - Ah!" Moving her hands, mommy holds up the fancy dress the right way where Damocles can finally see the sleeves now. "I had no idea this thing came in two pieces." When both Damocles and his sister laugh at their silly mom, she snorts and comes to where Cassia sits on her bed. She's the first to get her costume on, so Damocles waits for his own. "Alright. Put this dress looking one on first. Then come back out and I'll help you buckle your belt and tie your cape on." She hands Cassia the dress looking part of the costume. "Off you go, Gandalf," she says with a chuckle before looking at Damocles, smiling. "Is my scary little ringwraith ready to get his robes on?"

Damocles grins and nods. "Uh huh!"

Mommy laughs and waves out of Cassia's room. "Go grab your costume, then."

Chirping happily, he runs to his room. He had seen his costume when the clothing lady had it sent to their house, but daddy said he couldn't wear it until today. All day at school, Damocles wiggled and jumped in his seat, just waiting for class to be over and it to be night.

When asked what he and his sister wanted to be, the only thing that came to his mind was the grown up movie he and Cassia watched when mom and dad weren't looking. Up on the upper balcony, Damocles and his sister pressed their faces against the bars as they watched a vid about monsters and soldiers that fought with sword instead of guns in shock and excitement. Mommy and daddy had caught them, but they didn't get mad and, instead, invited them to come see better on the couch and share popcorn and snacks.

It was the coolest movie Damocles had ever seen. He even thinks Cassia loved it as much as he did because she wanted to dress up as it for Halloween too.

His sister loved what the vid called 'magic' and 'wizards', but a human man called 'Gandalf' even more, so she wanted to dress up as him. The clothing lady had made a face and asked why Cassia wanted to be a boy, but mommy and daddy said she and Damocles could be whatever they wanted, man, woman, or monster. They even smiled when Cassia said she wished she could be magical and told her that, for Halloween, she could have all the powers she wanted and could be someone that's not Cassia Vakarian.

That's why Damocles wanted to be one of the scary black monsters that chased the heroes around through the whole movies. If Cassia could be someone nice and magical, then he could be scary and covered in clothes - even his head. Being someone that would scare everyone made Damocles feel like he belonged more than trying to pretend he was like his sister. The other kids were already so mean and thought he was a weirdo on normal days, so, for Halloween, he was going to have a reason to be different. And maybe he could even scare the others for being so mean to him.

When he comes back to Cassia's room where mommy waits for him - and his sister to get done dressing in the bathroom - he purrs at her smile. Mommy and daddy were also so nice to him and, even when others were confused about some of the stuff he and Cassia did, they always understood or let him explain why he does what he did before getting mad. That made them extra special to him and his sister, and more cool than any of the other kids' parents no matter what the stupidheads said at school.

Just as Damocles hands his costume to his mom, Cassia returns in her grey dress, full of happiness and chirping. Mommy chuckles and pats the bed for her before looking at the black clothes in her hands. "Alright. Let's see here…" Laying some of it on the bed, mom finally holds up what looks like another dress with lots of rags hanging on it. "Here we go. Damocles," she says, looking to him and holding the dress out by the arms so he can grab it. "Put it on like a big shirt, over your head. Be careful not to trip on it." She looks to Cassia, tilting her head. "And if these things are too long for you guys, we'll pin them downstairs."

"Okay, mommy," Damocles says as he takes the dress. He's never worn one before, but it doesn't look hard like some of the others his sister likes. Tucking it under his arm, he rushes into Cassia's bathroom and closes the door.

He first lays down his costume on the counter before pulling off his shirt and throwing it into Cassia's dirty clothes bucket. Next, he unbuttons his pants around his waist and down at his spurs before yanking them down and off. He throws those somewhere without looking because he's in too big a hurry to get dressed and out trick or treating. At the very end of his dressing, he pulls the big costume over his head and cowl before looking at himself in the mirror.

He doesn't look quite like the monsters yet, but hopefully the rest of the costume will help. He sure hopes so because it's not even to look  _kinda_ like a monster, but to  _be_ the monster. How is he to scare people if he doesn't look scary enough? He just hopes mommy can help.

Frowning, he comes out of the bathroom with his head down. He can hear mommy helping Cassia into the rest of her costume, talking about wearing a hat like the wizard, but he doesn't pay attention as he walks to the bed and flops down with a huff.

"What's wrong, little one?" Daddy asks and Damocles jumps at being surprised. Looking up, he sees daddy in white clothes with a circle floating over his head. He doesn't really know what the costume is, but mommy and daddy are weird like that sometimes. "You don't seem all that happy to be wearing your costume."

Daddy kneels down as Damocles keens softly, looking down at his lap and playing with one of the rags on his outfit. "I don't look scary like the monsters."

He hears daddy chuckle and the sounds of moving. In a second, he sees dad hold out a pile of more black rags. "You haven't even finished dressing." Daddy smiles when Damocles looks up at his face and he hears the deep rumbling from his dad's vocals. "How about you get your shoes on and I'll help you with the rest of it?  _Then_ you can tell me you're not scary."

Damocles nods as he looks towards mommy and Cassia, now dressed in her whole costume. He doesn't know how, but mommy and daddy found her a beard too, and she now wears it. It covers most of her face, but she's trilling in happiness and brushing it, so Damocles knows she likes it. He thinks it'd be too scratchy to wear, but his sister has always liked mommy's hair, so now it's like she has her own.

As he sits down on the floor to pull on his shoes, mommy lays a hand on his fringe before giving daddy a kiss. "I'm going to go get dressed," she says as she walks away and daddy purrs.

"No problem, Jane. I think I can handle dressing our two monsters."

"I'm not a monster, I'm a wizard!" Cassia holds on to her big hat and stomps, clicking her mandibles in anger.

" _I'm_ a monster!" Damocles hops to his feet and holds up his hands into claws. "Ra-awr!"

Daddy gasps before chuckling, pulling Damocles to him with a pull on his costume. "Alright, monster. Let's get you dressed so you can be even more threatening."

Damocles nods as Cassia moves to sit on her bed beside where daddy stands. Going to him, Damocles looks up in readiness, mandibles fluttering as his belly tickles. He's so excited to become the monster, to be something better than just Damocles Vakarian, and he can barely stand still as daddy looks over the rest of his costume.

"Alright, little one. Lift your chin." Following what daddy says, Damocles lifts his head up so that daddy can put the cape on his back and tie it. "Now the hoods."

Damocles doesn't understand, but he lets daddy do what he wants as he pulls a black hood over his head and covers his face. He trills in surprise, unable to see, but he feels his dad move the hood around until Damocles can see through some kind of see-through part of the mask. He smiles, but daddy doesn't smile back, so he thinks that everyone else won't be able to see him.

"Can you see me, daddy?"

Shaking his head, dad chuckles and pulls the heavier hood that only covers Damocles' head and a bit on the top of his eyes. "I can't. And that'd ruin the effect, now wouldn't it?" Smiling, he tilts his head to look Damocles almost in the eyes. "You definitely look scary now."

That tickling feeling grows as Damocles bounces on the tips of his toes, hitting his hands together. He quickly pulls on the gloves daddy gives him and runs to the door. "Come on! Let's go!"

Cassia runs to join him, but daddy is slower, snorting as he stands and follows, turning off the light. "Easy, you two. We still need to wait for mommy to get dressed." He hums and climbs down the stairs after them. "Take the steps slow and hold up your costumes so you don't trip."

Damocles stops and pulls up his costume like dad says, and it does make it easier to get down the stairs. Mommy still isn't out of her room yet, but his and his sister's trick or treat buckets are and they run to them in excitement. They look in to see if there's any candy, but find nothing, and daddy chuckles as he goes to them carrying something white and fluffy.

"We have to go out to get the candy, you two." He stops to put loops in the fluff over his arms and Damocles can now see that it's wings on his back.

It still doesn't make any sense, so he asks, "Daddy? What are you supposed to be?"

Daddy snorts and chuckles, looking down at his clothes. "That silly, huh?" He smiles when he looks back to Damocles and Cassia. "It's called an 'angel'. Some sort of human deity, but it's sort of a running joke between your mother and I."

"Because you're  _my_ Archangel." Mommy steps out of her bedroom, a long and poofy red and black dress on. She puts on a hair thing with red horns on her head and smiles at them. "All ready?"

"Uh huh!" Both Damocles and Cassia answer with nods. Cassia runs over to the door where her supposed magic stick is and Damocles grabs his bucket, stopping and looking at mommy and daddy.

"What about Xero?"

Mommy, walking to the backdoor to let their varren in, stops and chuckles. "Xero is still too young to go with us, but next time. I promise."

Their puppy runs in from outside and jumps up on mommy's dress, yipping. She chuckles and picks him up, walking to the bathroom downstairs where they keep Xero when they aren't able to play with him. When Damocles hears the door shut and Xero whine, he knows it's finally time to go and rushes to the door before Cassia. Daddy is right behind them and, when Damocles looks to him for an okay, he nods and smiles.

Chirping and grinning, Damocles throws open the front door and runs down the steps. He hops the last step and spins to his parents. "Come on! Hurry!"

"Calm your tits," mommy says with a big smile and shake of her head as she steps down onto the stepping stones. "It's barely dark."

"We're gonna be late, though" Cassia whines and bounces as mommy and daddy take each other's hands before offering the open one to each of them.

Damocles doesn't want to, thinks it's silly on a day when he's supposed to be scary, but he takes his mom's hand anyways. Her touch is warm through his glove and she gives him a light squeeze and smile, so he supposes he can hold her hand. At least until they come up to the other kids and, then, he doesn't want to be seen. They already make fun of him enough that he doesn't want to seem like the baby monster who has to hold his mommy's hand.

They walk a long ways, past kunkle's house, past his aunt Aelia and uncle Lantar's house, past the school, and even past the large field and buildings he doesn't know before they finally reach everyone else's houses. Here is where all the other kids' families and other adults live, in little houses lined up next to and across from each other. He's only been here a few times to visit Cassia's friend Gelta and her daddy and brother or to see Aunt Miri on her house at the close end of what mommy and daddy call 'the block'.

It's at their aunt's house that mommy and daddy stop first, but they at least let Damocles and Cassia rush to be the first at the door to ring the bell. Cassia manages to get there first by just a little bit and Damocles growls in upset, but she stops and smiles at him with a rumble as the bell dings inside. That makes it a little better, but he still tells himself he's going to be the first to the next one. He can't let his sister win  _twice,_ after all.

Auntie Miri comes to the door just as slowpokes mommy and daddy make it. She's wearing a weird dress and pointy hat kind of like Cassia's, but her clothes are black where his sister's are grey. He doesn't recognize whatever his aunt is supposed to be but, then again, he doesn't even understand his mom and dad's, so maybe it's just a grown up thing to dress weirdly.

"Well, this isn't that much of a surprise," Mommy says with a chuckle as Auntie Miri carries what Damocles has heard is a pumpkin, a carving of a face so light can shine out.

She sets it down on the ground beside her door. "Yeah, yeah. Me? A witch?" She rolls her eyes and lays her hands on her hips, tilting to the side in what mom sometimes does when she's mad. "How about Garrus?" She chuckles and says, "An angel? Really?"

Daddy shrugs, rumbling and smiling. "I'm nothing if not original. Are you going to take Alexia out?"

Aunt Miri shakes her head, no longer mad as she relaxes. "She's still too young, Garrus. I want her to be safe."

"We could take her," mommy says, but Damocles' aunt shakes her head again.

"There's nothing against you, but I want to be with her." She sighs and motions inside her house. "Besides, I'm having a crew set up a lab for me in a prefab behind the house and I need to be around to, well…"

"Boss the shit out of them." Mommy chuckles when Aunt Miri sighs.

"If you really want to put it that way, yes." She smiles. "I think you probably noticed how pristine the Lazarus lab was when you woke."

"I was too busy being shot at," mommy says with a chuckle and nods. "So, I see you're leaving a pumpkin out. I noticed a lot of the houses have them. What's with that?"

"It marks houses that have candy." Damocles and Cassia both gasp in excitement, looking down the street at all the houses with glowing pumpkins outside. Some even have cool decorations! "With different species around, it wouldn't really be fair to have kids constantly knocking on those houses who aren't even celebrating Halloween."

"Right. Because multitudes of children running through the street won't keep them up tonight." Daddy hums and Aunt Miri snorts, rolling her eyes, as mommy chuckles.

"You never know. Maybe not every species sleeps as light as you do." She looks to Aunt Miri, jerking a thumb to daddy. "I swear, a leaf could fall from a tree and he'd wake up."

Damocles grins at the silliness of that -  _no one can hear a leaf, mommy_  - and Cassia giggles. Mommy smiles down to them, but the funniness of it quickly goes away as Damocles sees other kids out on the street. He really doesn't want to miss out on the candy because all the others took it all. Looking up to Auntie Miri, he purrs in plea. "Can we have candy, Auntie Miri?"

His aunt looks down to them and he fears he upset her when she doesn't move at first. Suddenly, she blinks. "Right! I'm sorry, guys." She turns and rushes into the house to grab a big bowl. "Take a handful. Family gets first pick." Kneeling down, she looks over them as they rush to grab candies of all colors - even the good ones that usually only come from Mr. Harrot. "Cassia? Does that beard itch?"

"Uh uh." Cassia drops her costume's stick to grab candy and shove it in her bag. "It's cool."

Aunt Miri chuckles and hands back the stick. "Try not to drop this. It might break." She smiles and moves her chin to the street. "You have fun."

"Why don't you two go ahead of us?" Daddy steps aside to give them room to walk down the short steps to the flat ground for the road. "We'll hang back." He chuckles and rumbles. "Wouldn't want to, what is it, cramp your fad?"

"Style, Garrus. Wouldn't want to cramp your  _style_." Mommy chuckles. "Later, Miranda."

Mommy and daddy take each other's hands, but they're too slow as Damocles runs ahead and leading his sister. They laugh, side by side, as they pass a group of human children dressed in all kinds of costumes not as good as what he and Cassia wear. The kids look at what are probably the only two that look like their daddy, but are still trick or treating like all the other humans, but, for once, Damocles doesn't care. He is a scary monster and no stupid kids are going to make him feel bad because of their mean looks.

Climbing up the steps to a house, Damocles rings the bell as mommy calls from the street. "Remember to say 'trick or treat'!"

"Okay, mommy!" Cassia calls back, missing the chance as the door opens to a round woman and Damocles shouts 'trick or treat!' over his sister's own shout.

"Whoa… okay." The woman looks over them, her brow dropping in confusion. "Uh… aren't you guys-" She looks up and must see their parents because she makes a rumbly sounding cough and nods. "Right." She lowers her voice, but Damocles still hears her say, "You're  _those_ kids." She raises her voice some. "But just one!"

Damocles frowns under his hood, but he knows the lady doesn't see as she offers the bowl of candy with a rule he knows the others didn't have. Cassia takes a big bar of Chocolate Crunch and gives a thanks, but Damocles is less happy about getting treats from this mean woman. Instead, he just grabs something without looking and spins, stomping down the stairs. He hears Cassia's rush of footsteps behind him and sees mommy and daddy look at him with a frown of worry, but he doesn't want to talk about it.

Talking about the mean people does no good anyways.

As he walks with Cassia, a tiny bit less excited about continuing down the street, and hears mommy and daddy talk together in low voices. He knows that others talking bad about him and his sister hurts them, but they don't really know. They aren't the same no matter how they try.

He lets Cassia do all the talking at the next few houses, not even walking up to the door or opening his bag for candy. Many of the grown ups will frown until, making her face mad looking, mommy takes his hand and walks with him to the door. Something tells him she's not mad at him, but he still worries about having to go to the door of what's probably going to be another mean grown up.

His mom lets some kids pass before she kneels down before him at the bottom of a house's stairs. Cupping his head through the hood, she lifts his chin to look at her even if she can't see him. "Don't let those fucking bastards break your spirit. They are afraid of you."

"But I'm not scary…" he whispers, vocals keening softly. "Why does everyone hate us?"

Mommy frowns as Damocles hears daddy come close, purring as he crouches down and presses his forehead to Damocles'. "People are idiots. They fear what's different. They fear the possibility that you will be better than all of us, you and your sister." Mommy nods and stands to go to a confused and worried Cassia as daddy pulls Damocles into a hug. The pain eases a tiny bit, enough to make Damocles think that maybe getting candy is still a good enough thing to not think about the mean looks. "Just remember, you are better than all of them. They are nothing but talk, but hate and fear. You are so much more and will  _be_ so much more." He lays his hand under Damocles' chin, flaring his mandibles. "Prove them wrong."

Damocles sniffles and nods softly. "Okay, daddy."

He can be strong, for daddy, for mommy, and - even more - for his sister. She is hurt by the mean looks and words, crying when others make fun or sometimes when they come home from school. She needs his protection, to be looked after, because, unlike Damocles, he can hold it in.

He  _is_ strong, and he's going to prove it.

Daddy smiles and nods, standing and offering a hand. Damocles takes it, but only walks with him for a short time before he gets bored and rushes ahead to join his sister. They are only a few houses away from the end of the street - and the houses of the people in the city mom and dad own. At least, those houses on 'the block'. There are still other people that live around the other parts of the city thing, like around the field, but he's sure mommy and daddy don't walk that far away. They  _are_ old, after all.

Uncle and Aunt Sidonis live in the third house from the last one - the one next to the small playground - and mommy and daddy stop there to knock on the door. Damocles doesn't understand why because there's no pumpkin outside and turians don't really celebrate halloween, but grown ups are strange sometimes and don't always make a lot of sense. And they like to talk a lot, too.

"Mommy." Cassia tugs a bit on mommy's big dress and points to the last houses. "There's still a house."

Their dad chuckles as mommy heads to knock on the door. Crouching down, daddy smiles at Cassia and pulls her hat on straight. "We'll be right here talking to your aunt and uncle about work. I know you don't want to hear that boring stuff, so you head to the last house and, when you get your candy, you can go play."

Cassia chirps and hops, her bag making a crinkling noise as she swings it. "Really?!" She squeals and grabs Damocles' hand, dragging him to the last house with the pumpkin by the door.

Damocles doesn't really care about getting more candy and lets his sister ring the bell, standing make to make sure his hood is still pulled down over his head as far as it'll go. The play area looks empty with all the other kids wanting to get candy, so he wants to be there instead, watching out for his mom and dad to come take them home. He knows he'll feel much better once he's home with Xero and his family and able to eat all the candy he got.

"Trick or treat!" Cassia's trill makes him turn back to the house. At least, this way, he can get some more candy before he goes with her to the playground.

"Oh! Hello, kids." The woman in a bright yellow and black outfit tilts her head and frowns, looking from Damocles to Cassia. "My, your costumes certainly are… unique."

"I'm Gandolf!" Cassia holds up her bag, jiggling it. "And my brother is a ring waif."

"But…" The woman moves the bowl from her two hands to one against her side. "Wouldn't you want to be something pretty? Girls should dress in something pretty or cute." Cassia shakes her head, grinning with a chirp, and the lady looks to Damocles. "And you look very scary tonight." She frowns and Damocles clicks his mandibles. "Wouldn't you rather want to be something like Blasto, or some superhero?"

Getting mad, he growls softly and crosses his arms. "Mommy and daddy said I can 'be whoever the fuck' I want. And I wanna be a scary monster."

Cassia makes a noise of worry at him, and he knows she's frowning, but mom and dad aren't around to punish him for using bad words. And this lady isn't the boss of him and Cassia, so she can't do anything to them either. Besides, it's her fault for trying to make them feel bad about their costumes.

"Well…" The woman stands straight up and looks at Damocles through his hood, and he stares right back. He tenses up, never having to defend himself against an adult when not practice fighting with daddy, but he'll do it if the lady tries to do something.

Finally, the yellow and black dressed lady sighs and looks up past Damocles' shoulder. He looks back without turning and sees other kids coming, so he thinks she's not wanting to fight anymore before she leans down and drops a candy bar in Cassia's bag with her lips in a thin line. Damocles doesn't even ask for one of his own, taking Cassia's hand and walking with her past the other kids and towards the play set at the end of the street.

"You don't have to be mean, Damo."

"I wasn't mean," he says, frowning and letting her go to face her. "She was mean first." Cassia frowns behind her big fake beard and Damocles' mandibles flutter, not liking to make her upset, but he's right. He knows he is. "I don't like how she was talking to you. You can be what you want."

She steps forward and hugs him, purring. He doesn't understand why after she was upset earlier, but he rumbles and hugs her back. Flicking his mandibles, he doesn't notice when she goes still until he hears heavy footsteps behind him and quickly lets her go, spinning to stand between her and someone who doesn't sound anything like his mommy or daddy by their footsteps.

"Well, well, well." The krogan bully, Srack, stands before them, arms crossed, mean look on his face, and his two friends - asari and another krogan - with him. "Guess I might get myself some candy today." Damocles growls and pulls his mandibles in tight as the boy laughs. "Shut up, runt freak," he says and shoves Damocles back a steps. "Now. Give 'em over."

"Fuck you!" He shouts back, offering his bag back to Cassia so he can get ready for another fight. This time, he knows more than what he's seen on vids thanks to his dad's lessons. Even if he's not as good as daddy, he knows he's better than this stupid ass. As Srack tries to push him again, Damocles shoves the boy himself, that tingling feeling surrounding his arms as he throws the krogan bully off his feet.

"You little…" Roaring, Srack jumps to his feet and starts to charge. He stomps towards Damocles and Damocles readies himself, surrounding himself in that tickling feeling the grown ups call biotics and spreading his legs into a 'defensive stance', as daddy calls it. But before Srack can come close enough for either of them to hit the other, he stops just as Damocles hears the whirring sound of real guns coming out.

Blinking in surprise, Damocles looks up.

Standing above him and Cassia are mommy and daddy, mean looks on their faces and a gun in their hand pointed at Srack. Damocles' mandibles drop in shock as the krogan's eyes widen and he raises his hands, backing away, but mommy and daddy don't move, don't lower their weapons.

Instead, mommy says, "Stay the fuck away from my kids."

"I didn't-"

"Don't bother," she says, interrupting Srack. "Consider this a promise."

Daddy growls. "If we see you come near our son one more time. You and your family are gone, off Virmire, and never allowed back into the Wraiths or under our protection." He lifts his chin and his eyes go narrow. "You remember that."

"My parent's won't just let you hold a gun to me." Srack growls back as mommy lowers her gun.

"Good," daddy says, rumbling and flicking a mandible before he - strangely - chuckles. "We'll be waiting if they decide they don't agree to our terms."

"Now, get the fuck out of here. All of you." Mommy's hand is glowing blue as she waves towards the street. "Before we change our minds about letting you go."

Srack's friends' eyes widen, but they run before he does. Srack takes another second to look up at Damocles' dad before he, too, stomps away in a bit of a run. Damocles isn't sure if that's really what grown ups are supposed to do, but at least he can't be in trouble for getting into a fight if his mom and dad were the ones to do it instead. And they brought  _guns._

How he wishes he were as cool as them. Maybe, one day, he will be.


	16. The Talk 7/2192

Jane's day starts off with breakfast - if it could be called that - in bed, which is, initially, very confusing until she realizes what today is. Not that she had forgotten, she never could, but she has to admit she's far from aware right after opening her eyes in the early morning. Especially when it's to a platter of something slightly green and lumpy in the hands of the very man she bound herself to so many years ago today.

Her love for him hadn't waned in the time spent together, fighting and surviving side by side, but asking her to eat what looked suspiciously like hardened snot became a stretch.

"Hey," she says with a lopsided smile, glancing at the plate in his hands as she scoots over to give him room to sit beside her on the bed. "Mmm… Looks delicious."

Garrus snorts as the plate passes between them before leaning over and kissing her cheek. "No it doesn't" He chuckles and pokes the fluff of greenish yellow with the tip of his sharp talon. "Pretty sure it's not supposed to be that color… or smell like that."

"What is it?" She leans over and nuzzles his mandible.

"Eggs"

She pauses mid-lean to put the plate on the side table and looks at him in surprise. "Eggs? Really?" Clearing her throat, she glances at it. "No offense, but I'm not eating green eggs. Even if there's a children's book about it, I'm pretty sure your cooking will kill me."

Her mate laughs, his scar-roughened voice rumbling deep enough to leave a light fluttering in her chest, and she can't help but smile and let her chuckles join in. Years together, and just the sound of his laughter puts a stupid grin on her face, but she doesn't want it any other way. Not when it sometimes still feels like it's the two of them against the galaxy. When considering their positions as rogue Spectres and - probably, most definitely - galactic criminals now, that 'feeling' gains a bit more clout, but picking apart the truth to the situation just seems redundant and unnecessarily boring when faced with her smiling, purring husband.

"So, breakfast is a bust," he says, chuckling as he takes her hand and looks out of the large windows of their bedroom towards the rolling waves, "but I'm sure I can make it up to you somehow."

She smirks when he presses his mouth to her neck and gives her a rumbling growl, like the revving of an old-world engine. A shiver rolls down her spine and she hunches her shoulders against the chill, chuckling. With a playful shove, she pushes him away before she jumps him right here and now. Last thing she wants is the twins rushing in and jumping on some valuable bits. She'd much rather not spend their anniversary in Dr Elihu Solas' medbay.

_Mmm… antiseptics and bruised dicks. Romantic._

"Enough, horn dog," she says, nudging Garrus away again when he growls and smirks at her as his hands tug on the sheets. "The kids could walk in any minute now. Do  _you_ want to guard your junk against that kind of onslaught?"

He grabs her hand by the wrist, massive hand engulfing her own, when she tries to yank the sheets back in preparation for two little monsters to rampage their way in. Chuckling at her scolding glare to remind the bastard they have nosy bastards for kids, Garrus kisses her palm. "Don't worry. They're not here."

"Wonderful. We lost the kids," she deadpans, huffing in mock exasperation. "Let me put on my clothes and grab the tracker."

He purrs and flicks his mandibles in a cheerful grin. "No. Not quite." He releases her wrist and takes her hand in his to fold their fingers together instead. "Sidonis and Aelia are watching them. Apparently Miranda is doing something for Arcanus and Ellie is running an op."

Jane frowns, considering that perhaps Lantar being such a late choice is because Garrus still doesn't trust the man. While understandable, it's unfortunate. "Garrus. He'll take care of them as if they're his own. You can't-" She stops when he raises his hand, shaking his head.

"Don't worry about that. I trust him. I just didn't want to ask because they have their hands full with Aeson." He shrugs, purring as he smiles. "But they insisted. I think it'll do them all good to spend time together."

Jane nods, thinking of how hard it must now be with Aeson getting ready to go into school and knowing that there are plenty of turian families familiar with the historical meaning behind Lantar's missing half of his mandibles. If she knows the families with kids - which she does - then Aeson is in for a long life of judgement for his father's actions.

_No matter what, there are always assholes with nothing better to do than find something to bitch about or someone to punish for stupid shit._

"Good." She pulls herself out of her thoughts about the ungrateful fucks here on Virmire -  _and after everything we do to make these people feel like they belong outside of the very galaxy that screwed so many of us over._ "And Aeson likes playing with Damocles. Sort of looks up to him."

Garrus nods, huffing a laugh. "And with all the girls surrounding him, I'm sure Damocles feels the same way."

"Hey, now. There aren't  _that_ many girls around."

"Really?" He lifts a brow plate before humming as if in thought. "Cassia, Gelta, Alexia, you -"

Shaking her head, she makes a protesting sound. "No. I don't count. I'm his mother."

Her mate chuckles and shrugs. "Even without counting you, he's outnumbered." Giving him that, she nods. "Us males need to up our numbers against all you women."

She snorts in mock offense and lets go of the unnecessary sheets covering her, no longer caring if she's buck ass naked now that the twins are out of the house. Smirking at his quick change in mood evident in the way his eyes darken, she crawls into his lap and kisses him passionately. It takes only a moment before his mouth relaxes and his warm, rough tongue slides out to curl around her own. She can't move her own in the ways he can, but she makes up for it when she closes her lips around his tongue and sucking.

His moan is all the encouragement she needs as she cups his face, tilts her head, and shoves her tongue into his own mouth. His breaths are hot, moist, and she can taste the wonderful taste of his natural flavor, like a sweet, yet also hot, spice. She moans as her tongue slides against the points of his teeth in reaction to his hands tangling in her hair, but they've kissed so many times that it's long since she ever nicked herself on his teeth. Swallowing his deep growl, Jane pulls back and smirks.

"Uh oh. That look is never good." However, he grins back and grips her hips. "Going to show me the benefits of being outnumbered?"

She chuckles and tilts her head with a coy smile. "Oh, I think we're evenly numbered." Her expression turns seductive, eyes half lidded. "But I'm definitely going to show you the benefits your be missing if we weren't."

He growls, returning her smirk with a heated gaze, and she wastes no time in pushing him down onto his back. Gripping his waist, she adds pressure with her fingers digging into hide that snaps a snarling gasp from his mouth. She doesn't stop there, though, and slides her hands down to the hem of the loose fitting pants he wears around the twins right out of bed. With a tug, she encourage him to lift his hips and shimmies the fabrics over and down the jut of his hips. Tossing them away once she's freed his spurs and feet, Jane runs her hands up his scarred thighs before leaning down to begin her torture.

Garrus must know her goal because he lays his head against the pillows and shifts his thighs beneath her palms, relaxing to let his plates shift - and they do, with just the slightest touch of her tongue against their seam. He exhales a heavy sigh as she licks at him, her eyes fluttering and stomach clenching at the feel of growing heat and pressure with each lap of her tongue. Soon, too soon for her to get her fill of the act of teasing him out, he erects beneath her with a low groan under his breath.

Wet, twitching, and ridges expanding with the flow of blood, his length begs to be tasted, surrounded, and pleasured, but she wants him too badly to wait. As great as it is to slide her tongue over him, wrap her lips around his length, and swallow every last inch, there's a part of her that still worries about the twins finding their way back home. If Damocles and Cassia make it back before Jane and Garrus can get to it, she just knows she's going to set her underwear aflame from friction just trying to relieve the ache between her legs. That's not taking the way she drips down her thighs with just the thought of him spreading her open, pushing against her walls, and making her fit him in a way nature never intended.

He seems to have to come to the same impatient decision as he sits up and cups the back of her head, guiding her to her hands and crawling over him. She smirks at his dark eyes, sure her own are the very same color of desire, as she straddles him and feels his length slide against the curve of her ass as she leans forward to shove their mouths together. Moaning around his tongue when she feels his hands slide up her thighs to grip her, she pushes her rear into his palms to give him control over pulling her into position over him. She pulls her lips from him when she feels his heat just before her folds and cups his face, making him look into her eyes.

As one, they move, he thrusting up and guiding her hips as she pushes down onto him. His moan is low and deep while hers is more of a high gasp, his massive length pressing into her and expanding her walls the deeper and wider his cock goes. She throws her head back with a groan as he hits resistance and lifts up to his tip, her channel feeling empty without the deepest connection they can achieve. Garrus growls impatiently, lifting his hips into her downward grind and their gradual thrust and withdrawal soon loosens her to the point of his bottoming out when she can finally sit flush against his groin.

Feeling him seated deep within her, Jane moans and tests her muscles with a conscious clench, but can barely move more than a quiver. Still, the movement draws a groan from her mate's mouth as his eyes seem to roll back in his head and his grip on her hips tightens, a curse falling from his lips in a language she's just barely begun to learn to understand. She'd chuckle at his inability to speak coherently enough for their translators, but her own mind short circuits when he retaliates with a hard grind up against her that gets his rounder base rubbing against her g-spot.

"Fuck," she snaps, bucking against him, and her body moves on its own accord as she starts to ride him with slow rises and hard lowers back over him.

Her husband snarls at her and cups the back of her head, yanking her down into a bruising kiss. Shoving his tongue between her lips, he uses his other hand to hold her still, hovering over him. She knows exactly what's coming and whines in anticipation just before he shifts to get a better stance on the bed. One second she's chillingly empty and, the next, he's pounding up into her with feral grunts and vocals echoing into her mouth.

Jane moans as she grips him under his fringe and rubs in that sensitive spot hard enough to make him throw his head back into her hands. The move throws them off balance and she catches herself with a hand while continuing the firm pressure against his nerves, but he still bucks like an animal beneath her, but she won't just stand by and let him get all the fun. Shifting to plant her knees more squarely on the bed, Jane forces a hand down onto his chest as she starts giving him a fucking worthy of their anniversary.

She should have known that, the moment she started bouncing on and over him, he would never sit still willingly - and he definitely can overpower her in sheer, unassisted strength. He doesn't throw her off, though, and, instead, grips her hips, times his thrusts, and yanks her on the downward thrust as he impales her in turn. That draws cries from her throat and she grips the headboard to use for shoving herself back against him.

Skin slick with sweat and connection getting more obscene and louder with each drive of their combined hips, she stares down at her growling, panting mate with her chest heavy in just as equally weighted gasps. Seeing him, a mess of struggling breaths and primal sounds, eyes black with desire, Jane groans and grips the headboard hard enough to whiten her knuckles - and she swears she hears the wood creak. She's so close and, as if he can feel her very pulse quickening the closer to the edge she draws, Garrus drops a shaking hand to just above their connection to circle the flat of his metal thumb around her swollen clit. The chill of metal contrasted with the heat radiating off their bodies combined with the sweet, wet friction and sensation of their sounds filling the room draws on her orgasm like a punch to the stomach.

Throwing her head back, her mouth falls open in a gasping scream as she grows taut as a drawn bow. She doesn't feel him continuing, her walls already trembling around his massive length in their release, but she does hear the obscene sound of him thrusting through the added moisture from her completion. The thought of soon feeling him joining her - joining  _with_ her - makes her moan weakly as she drops her head to look down on him chasing his own orgasm. Unable to move much past a few twitches of her hips thanks to his continued assault on her clit and inside of her, Jane can feel the exact moment he jerks within her, hardens, and starts to swell as an intense heat fills her.

Her whine joins with his low, drawn out, and rumbling moan and she nearly collapses on him, panting and sated. "Fuck… fuck…"

He chuckles at her incoherent cursing, chest beneath her cheek heaving. "I just did, but give me a bit and we can go again." Snorting weakly, Jane gives him a feigned look of irritation, but he merely shrugs and cups her flushed cheek in his massive palm, thumb ghosting over her lips. "You're beautiful like this."

Her lips twitch in a tired smile. "What? Sweaty and smelling like sex?"

"Yes." Before she can swat at him, he purrs and pulls her head up, leaning down to kiss her. "But I meant being relaxed, free."

"Am I only like this after sex?" She lifts a brow and he shakes his head.

"No," he stops before smirking and saying, "But when you add the look of just having your universe rocked by the best turian-"

Releasing a loud scoff, she leans up onto her elbows to give him a teasing grin. "That's what it is, then? Well, in that case, I should say you, too, look absolutely gorgeous because  _you_ just had the best fuck of your life."

"Please. I don't get gorgeous. I get more handsomely rugged."

Chuckling, she presses her forehead to his. She smiles when she hears his purr and feels his plated forehead press back before he shifts to press his mouth to her lips. "I love you," she whispers against his plates and feels the slight tickle of his mandibles shifting into a smile of his own.

"And I love you. Always."

Jane smiles softly, resolving to just spend the rest of the day in bed, only leaving for toilet breaks and to scour the house for food. Instead, she hears the telltale sound of the front door opening thanks to the soft chime of the house VI's alert of guests. Her brows draw down in confusion as she leans up into the closest thing to a sit they can achieve in this position and she looks at Garrus.

"Who the hell is that?" He merely gives her a shrug and mirroring look of confusion before the question is answered with a very unfortunate - and horrifically, fucking timed - sound of two voices powerful enough to send panic through the pair of well trained, war-hardened warriors. "Holy shit," she whispers in order to catch another squeak of distant children talking, "Is that-"

"The twins!" Garrus' voice comes out as a dual toned hiss as he sits up, headbutting her hard enough to compete with a krogan. She swears under her breath, vision blurring at the blaze of pain in her forehead, and he whispers apologies, but the sound of feet running over the living room floor snaps them out of their pain and remorse.

And into the moment of 'oh, fuck'.

Jane yanks the sheets up over her back and around herself, leaving Garrus to the wolves in terms of covering himself up. He doesn't need to cover all  _that_ much of himself, she justifies, just where they're currently stuck together. She, however, has all manner of jiggly bits hanging out that's sure to give the kids plenty of nightmares of squishy, pink monster moms.

Garrus gives her an exasperated look and adjusts the blankets enough to cover himself to his waist. The kids have seen him without shirts plenty of times so, unless they manage to crash into some valuable bits or become too curious of little shits, she and Garrus  _should_ be able to get through this visit in relatively one piece. Sidonis, however? Well, she's battling with herself about ripping off the rest of his mandibles.

_One day… One day of peace. Is that too much to ask?_

Both tense, ready for the pounce just as two blurs of color come shooting into the room, over the distance to their bed, and dive bombing the bed with screams of 'mommy, mommy!' and 'daddy, daddy!'. True to their nature of being littler terrors, each child manages to get a foot or hand into a tender spot on their parents. Garrus grunts loud and doubles over as best he can against her, hand moving between them to press on his stomach - too close to the unmentionables for Jane's taste seeing as how she's currently stuck right on top of them. She, too, isn't unscathed as a shoe is jammed into her left breast with the force of an elcor, definitely bound to leave a bruise.

"Jesus. Christ!" Jane throws a hand up, still holding her cover fast with the death grip of her other hand, and Garrus grabs the more active member of the assault on them, their son. Even she isn't surprised at that fact. That boy is bound to just bulldoze the house down once he gets big enough to reach higher that her waist.

Cassia, ever observant, is the first one to slow down and look her parents over, brow plates pulled down in deep thinking. Jane almost feels self-conscious of being completely naked save for a sheet before her very inquisitive - and too smart for her own damn good - daughter. It doesn't help when Cassia then asks, "Why are you and daddy sitting on each other?"

"Uh…"

"Mommy and I are kissing," her husband supplies quickly, looking at her just in time to see her unimpressed look. She's sure he'd be shrugging if not for it being too obvious that they're lying.

"But-"

"Hey, Jane, Garrus." Lantar's voice closes in as he pokes his head in the door, stilling for just a moment as the situation his him right in the face. "Oh, hey," he says with a hint of mock innocence in his voice. "Is this a bad time?"

"Where's my gun-"

"It kinda is," Jane interrupts, cutting off Garrus' thinking. "Why are you even back?"

Sidonis squirms in place, rubbing his neck as his shortened mandibles flick a few times. "Uh…" She catches how he grabs his three year old's hand before Aeson can run in and join his best friend and his sister in their mission to make this as awkward as possible. "They told me they forgot food for Xero."

She sighs and gives him a scathing look. "Really? ...Really." A headache builds just behind her eyes at this whole fucked up direction to the day and rubs her forehead. "He's a varren. He'd eat shoes and rocks if you let him."

"Yeah… I see that  _now_." Still, she can see a bit of amusement in his eyes.

_Bastard._

Looking down to his son, Sidonis flicks his mandibles and takes a quick breath, chest puffing up. "Well, I guess I should be going. It was nice to see you. Hope everything goes okay." His words are a rush as he tries to usher his son away from the very curious site of the very close couple completely lacking in any decency to want to separate while their children are around. "Ping me later!"

"Only if I don't strangle you first!" Groaning at the sound of the front door closing and cursing the overly friendly synthetic voice of the VI, Jane finally looks to her two little pests.

Cassia looks too damn aware of the situation, to the point that Damocles is starting to get suspicious, and Garrus seems to be deep in his own thoughts as his nose shifts and mandibles slowly spread and close. She lifts a brow in question when she catches his eyes and he clears his throat. "It smells," he simply states and both of the twins nod in agreement.

_Smells…?_

Jane scrunches her nose, not smelling anything. That is, until it hits her, not as strongly as it must be for the damn turians in the room, but strong enough to know  _exactly_ what it is.

"God dammit." Exhaling heavily, she hangs her head in frustration. "Of course."

_Of course it'd smell like sex. Why wouldn't it, Jane? You two did just make the messiest scene not moments before._

She could even still feel it against her thighs, knowing it'll only be more -  _much_ more - once Garrus' knot relaxes. Cursing once more under her breath, she runs a hand through her sweat dampened hair and looks to her mate, a question of 'what now?' in her expression. He hums and looks over their children.

"How about you two head to the living room because it smells so much and mommy and I will clean it up." Flicking his mandibles, he looks to her for agreement and she nods.

"You can even turn on some cartoons," she adds, and their eyes, thankfully, light up.

They run out, but not without one of them stepping and slipping off of her covered thigh. She flinches at the rough sole of their boot scraping  _just so_ over the small section of skin on her leg just above her prosthetic. Once they're out of the room, and hopefully out of earshot, she turns to her mate with a glare. "You let them  _smell_ that this whole time? Why didn't you say something?"

Garrus chuckles and lifts a brow plate. "What would I say? 'Kids, step out of the room because this is a scent you shouldn't be smelling until your plates separate'?"

"Okay, one? I don't even know what that means, so you'll have to give me a turian biology lesson later. And, two? Shut up with your logic." Pouting, but not willing to admit it, Jane looks around the room for anything to hopefully try and pry them apart faster. "Okay, so we're kinda on a time limit before the kids get more curious than entertained by the vidscreen. So how long is it going to take you to deflate?"

He wrinkles his nose. "I don't 'deflate'."

Snorting, she smiles at his offense. "Fine, fine. How long until we can pop the cork?"

"Not better," he deadpans before reaching under the blankets to grip her hips. "Keep us covered. It's going to be a mess."

"Well, yeah." Chuckling, she watches him move under the sheets to try and pry them apart faster than usual without causing either of them pain. "Human vaginas aren't vacuums."

"Damn." He grunts at a movement, his talons flexing against her skin in a twitch of discomfort when he pulls the wrong way. "And here…" Another squirm and she feels a bit of the pressure between them wane. "I thought…" His hands tighten enough on her hips to gently ease her up. "All the messes were just because you were defective."

Laughing as they finally separate with the sound of a wet suction giving way, Jane leans on his shoulders to swing a leg back over his hips to sit at his side. "Well, I can't say that I'm  _not_ defective, but I can assure you that you're not missing anything there in that department."

"Good," he responds with a low purr, presses his forehead to hers before nudging her away. "Go get clean and I'll grab you some clothes."

She nods and gets up out of bed, dragging the sheets along with her since the bedroom door is still wide open. Yawning, she clicks on the light and takes a look at herself in the mirror.

She isn't sure whether the bedraggled look of her face and hair is because she just woke up or the sex, but she's damn sure she looks like hell warmed over. The sight is pretty amusing, though, and it relieves some of the nerves of the battle they're going to be walking right into when they leave the bedroom. A fight with a Reaper is nothing compared to explaining sex to two six year olds without scarring them for life.

Stepping into the shower for a quick rinse off to both clean her off and give her that final, rejuvenating slap out of any aroused or sleepy mood, Jane lazily uses her fingers to pull apart some of the worst of her tangles before getting out and drying off. She'll worry about brushing her teeth and all that extra primping later when she's not walking into another suicide mission in their very living room. Once done and dry enough not to leave puddles in her wake, she sneaks out of the bathroom and by the - thankfully - now closed door to get the clothes Garrus laid out for her.

Throwing on her panties and a loose bra, Jane almost puts her shirt on backwards if not for his snort to alert her. She gives him a sideways glare at taking amusement in her nerves - cursing that ever present calm he seems to be having - and jerks up her sleeping pants. Taking one last, long breath, she looks to him.

"I can't figure out why you're so damn calm."

"I'm not," he admits before smiling and taking her hand. "But I know it'll be okay. Sure, they'll be confused, but even I was as a kid when I was told."

"When did you learn about it?"

He tilts his head and hums in thought. "I think it was around their age, actually. Sol was older before my parents told her, but I think I remember being a bit young." Huffing a laugh, he drops his eyes to her and grins in a way that relaxes some of the tension in her shoulders. "I had actually stayed up late one night with a cousin and snuck in a viewing of some  _vid_."

She chuckles, walking beside him as they head to the door. "Did they get pissed?"

"Actually, they were more upset that they had to tell me so soon. Sex is natural for turians to talk about, remember?"

She lifts a brow. "Really? Does that mean you're going to take the lead in this conversation?"

If she wasn't so anxious about this conversation herself, she'd have laughed at his reaction of stuttering in his steps and going wide-eyed. "I… uh…" He looks at her, and she can swear she sees a plea in his eyes. "I'd rather we do it  _together_."

"Garrus," she says, her tone both meant to soothe and make it very clear of the problem she sees here. "I'm not turian. I don't have anywhere close to the sex organs they have beyond the fact that I have a vagina and I'm pretty sure Cassia does too."

"She will when her plates part." He holds up a hand and she holds in her question of just what the hell that even  _means_. "But what I mean is that I still want your help. They're both our children, and the basics are the same."

"Pretty sure I told you that human penises are meant for waste excretion. Turians' aren't."

He wrinkles his nose again. "And that's still gross." Shaking his head, he opens the door and pulls her with him. "Just skip that part."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

A soft rumble is her only answer as they walk in and sit on the free couch. Jane fusses with the tie at the waist of her pants, not sure how to start this conversation. How does one really go about telling their children they were caught having interspecies sex? She's pretty sure the just of things isn't going to go over real well with two six year olds.

Garrus clears his throat to get the twin's attention, and it takes a moment before they can pull their eyes from whatever strange cartoon about a pyjak they're watching. When those two little pairs of crystal blue eyes look to her and her mate, Jane almost turns tail and retreats, but she's nothing if not the 'Great Commander Shepard, defeater of Reapers'. That title feels pretty useless about now.

"So, I guess we owe you two an explanation," she starts, deciding to bite the bullet. They nod and she looks to Garrus, who seems lost in contemplation like a coward. "Well… It's kind of a long one, so you'll have to bear with us."

"Why were you and daddy cuddling naked?" Damocles gets straight to the point, not pulling punches.

"Well…"

"We were having sex," Garrus states, not an ounce of anxiety in his tone.

"What's sex?"

He purrs and smiles at their daughter. "It's a physical act between two people. A very intimate, private one."

"Yeah," Jane tries, not having her own 'talk' to draw from. It almost seems easier to have been thrown in without guidance, like learning to swim by just being dropped into the water -  _probably shouldn't associate your turian children with swimming, Jane._ "It doesn't even have to be between a man and woman. It can be woman and woman, man and man, alien and alien." They simply blink at her and she looks to Garrus.

_Not going to jump in here?_

"How do you 'have sex'?" Cassia asks, trilling in curiosity as she crosses her legs. "Do you have to be naked?"

Her husband chuckles. "That certainly makes things easier." Taking Jane's hand in what she's sure to be a comforting and supportive gesture, he rumbles and nods. "I don't about all the species, so I'll stick to yours."

"But we're frea-"

With a sharp and short growl, Garrus stops Damocles. He has always hated it when the twins took the teasing and vile insults to heart, wearing it with the thought that they truly are as everyone says. Both parents try their best to quell any and all of those thoughts, but she knows the twins always carry that burden of being different around their necks.

"You aren't freaks. Are you turians? No. But you're something I think is greater, you are both human  _and_ turian. You take both species' strengths." He flicks a mandible at the dip of their son's head in perceived admonishment, and Jane hears Garrus' tone soften. "Damocles, I'm not mad at you."

Cassia nuzzles her brother, scooting closer and hugging onto his arm. Jane smiles and reaches forward to take her son's hand. "We know it's hard and we get mad at those pricks and assholes, not at you and Cassia for feeling like they're right. Even though they aren't, it's hard to stay strong." Damocles looks to her, seemingly in awe at her words - her understanding - and she smiles. "Do you want us to wait for this conversation?"

Cassia perks up, eyes wide and mouth dropping, and Damocles clearly agrees with her shock at the possibility as he shakes his head rapidly. Jane isn't sure whether she's happy that they got over that hurtle to continue or the fact that they  _have to continue_. She can't let them see her mild disappointment over the - now - inevitable.

She lets go of his hand in order to sit back into a more comfortable position, grabbing her husband's hand like a life raft. She's not cut out for this. She sees that now.

Garrus is first to break the tenuous silence, starting back where they left off. "You have a turian body, you are physically turian. When you mature," he says, humming as his mandibles flare in Jane's vision. She can tell he's trying to find the words to explain, the specifics of turian puberty apparently not something he's really all that privy to. "The plates between your legs will get a small separation that'll split completely as you mature."

"Become an adult," Jane illustrates, clearing her throat in nerves when that draws three sets of eyes to her so she can continue. "Uh. It'll be little changes, but you'll go from a kid to a big turian, Damocles like your dad and Cassia like your aunt, Sol. You'll be tall and big like them." She huffs a laugh, hoping there'll be truth in her next statement. "Not short like your mom."

Damocles grins at that, the prospect of being the seven foot giant his dad is obviously getting his attention. Cassia, on her end, smiles with a giggle at Jane's expense, but she'll take the hit if it eases some of the tension in the air. Garrus, for his part, gives her a smile that feels like a warm blanket wrapping around her, encouraging her.

He picks up for her when it starts to become more difficult for her to predict the changes in turian puberty from human - hell, at her age, she isn't sure she can even remember her  _own_ few years of it. "Once you mature, your groin plates - that plates right here," he points to his own crotch and continues, "with be able to separate and show your genitalia."

At the wide-eyed look of complete confusion, the two lost in the new words, Jane bites her cheek to keep from smiling at her mate being so clinical about this. Leave it to turians to make sex so damn boring. "Genitals means your privates, the parts of your bodies that should be hidden except when having sex. And they're what you use for sex."

"How?"

Garrus rumbles at their quizative daughter. "Males have a penis and females a vagina." He holds up a finger when Damocles opens his mouth. "A penis is like a…" Pausing, he leans back and drums his free talons on his thigh. "This would be easier to just show them with vids."

"I'm not showing the twins porn at six years old." Her mate opens his mouth to speak, but she gives him one firm shake of her head. "Not doing it. Maybe later when they get closer to puberty, but not now."

"It'll only be a couple of years-"

"I  _didn't_ need to know that."

"Then I don't really know how to explain it-"

"Just…" At a loss for any real example, her hands fidget, and she fights not to just poke a finger through a circle made with her opposite hand. "A dick is like… A stick…"

"A stick?" Garrus lifts a brow plate. "What?"

"Don't judge my example!" She scowls at him, sure the two of them are making their twins only more confused. "What would  _you_ say?"

He hums and looks to the children. "Why don't I just show them?" Opening his tool, he glances Jane's way in question and she sighs, flipping a hand in the air. "You sure?"

"Sure, why not?"

"There are plenty of answers to that," he responds as he leans over to show the twins his Tool.

From her position, she can't really see the pictures, but she can't really hold back the urge to see. Instead of look like a child peeking over his shoulder, Jane simply pulls up her own Omni-Tool to look up turian vaginas because - well - she already knows what a dick looks like.

Distantly hearing Garrus talking about sex, she narrows her extranet searches to exclude turians actually in the act. Last thing she wants is to have everything distorted with Fornax-style sex acts - which can give the worst possible example of what a turian cunt can do - and keeps it to either clinical diagrams or 'tasteful' centerfolds. All while trying not to imagine her young daughter in any of these images because the reality of having her daughter grow into a woman with her own sexual appetites and needs is not something she wants to have on her mind right about now. Sure, she won't expect her daughter to join a convent - if turians even have them - but she doesn't want to have a mental image to associate with a child still only six. The less she imagines about her daughter having sex, the better.

Surprisingly, the clinical pictures aren't  _too_ clinical and off putting. They're even pretty interesting with how they show the basic structure to be the same. There's two ovaries, tubes, and uterus, though shaped a bit differently than how she once saw in a pamphlet about humans. Humans sort of looked like an inverted triangle with horns, but a turian uterus looked more stretched out, the tubes longer and ovaries higher up in the abdomen.

_Okay, not too bad. Time for the main showing._

Scrolling to more focused pictures of the vagina itself, Jane learns that hers and Garrus' species aren't all that different in terms of lady bits. There are differences, but so many similarities that she doesn't feel quite like drowning during this conversation.

Past groin plates situated just like a male's, though spread slightly wider, a female turian lacks labia. It makes sense, considering that the plates need to close completely - and extra flaps of skin would just get in the way,  _and hurt like hell if caught in between_. Instead, they have a slit set in a slight swell of flesh that looks very similar to the sheath Garrus has. Only difference seems to be what lies  _inside_.

Apparently, a male turian's testicles -  _three_?  _Why didn't I know this?_ \- are really up in their stomach. If she didn't know better, she'd think the three glands were a deformed uterus and ovaries with the location of them. When not erect, the penis slides in and rests in the cavity between sheath and testicles, the cavity apparently swelling and inverting when aroused. A bit confusing to imagine just looking at the medical pictures, but she knew the final product well enough to trust whatever magic was going on inside her mate whenever they got down and dirty.

As for a female turian, the uterus leads into a very familiar vagina, though slightly longer than a human's. She supposes a turian woman can't quite expand and loosen up as well as a human because there's no place to go, but she can guess there's a bit of give enough to adjust to more than one man. Given how small her babies were when they were born - and that she was told they were pretty big for turians - that expansion doesn't need to be much, but it all makes her think just how it feels for the partner if Garrus swears that her own vagina is the tightest he's ever had even when she's relaxed enough to fit all of him. Females don't seem to have a clit like Janer has in the pictures, but maybe it's internal. Would make sense when thinking about the fact that males have everything inside.

"Ewww!" Cassia's disgusted trill and loud exclamation draws Jane's attention away from her own Tool.

"I don't want that!" Damocles points to Garrus' tool, eyes wide. "Gross!"

Jane chuckles under her breath at their father's heavy sigh, his shoulders dropping in defeat. He looks to her, obviously hearing the sound, and huffs in exasperation, his eyes saying 'are you going to help me or not?'. Shifting in her seat, she pats the couch for him to come back. "Alright. I know what's going on now, so let's get back to it."

"Momma?"

"Yes, Damocles?"

"I don't want a penis."

She can't help it. She snorts and laughs a short breath. "Well, I hate to tell you, but you're stuck with one when you hit puberty." His face falls and Jane notices Cassia frowning at a spot on the floor with an intensity that could melt Makos, but Garrus takes the reigns on explaining the benefits of a cock to their son.

"Oh, you'll think  _very_ differently when you reach that point," he says, chuckling that low, rumbling bass. "Don't worry, I was shocked by it too, but you get used to it." Jane catches the sideways smirk he throws at her.

"Maybe a little  _too_ used to it," she mumbles under her breath and grins at her husband's mock indignant huff.

"What about me?" Cassia asks, her eyes wide and mandibles down in concern. She looks between Jane and Garrus, her trills breaking Jane's heart as they sing her worry - of being left out, because Jane knows her daughter well. "What do I get?"

Jane smiles and shifts to get down on the floor before their couch, her back to it so she can let them look over her shoulder. "See this?" She points to the image she was previously looking over. "This is what you have. It's called a vagina. It's inside where Damocles' is outside."

Her daughter stares at the image for a very long time, quiet and still save for the slight flaring and closing of her mandibles. It's a long time before she speaks, her voice low and mandibles humming. "Do you have one?"

Jane's mouth falls open in surprise. How the hell could she not have thought about this kind of question? Of course Cassia - and now Damocles - would be curious what is the same and what's different between herself and them. However, what was the safest route to take across those waters? She glances to her husband and sees his reassuring nod, his mandible flicking into a light smile.

"Well, yeah. I mean, it's different - sure - because you're turian and I'm human, but it's basically the same." Stopping to take a breath, the words just rushing out of her in hopes that this doesn't turn into another horrible talk about them not  _really_ being turian either.

"Is it blue like ours?" Damocles points to the image of the very blue, very alien genitals on her Omni-Tool screen.

"Uh… No." Seeing how his brows crinkle in that expression he always gets when confused and trying to decipher some grand mystery, Jane explains, "You know how my blood is red and yours blue?" Both children nod. "Well, that makes me pink and you both blue." She gently takes Damocles' hand in hers and compares their palms. "See? Your skin is bluish brown and mine is pinkish white."

"Oh. Okay," he agrees, pulling his hand back to examine himself.

Cassia taps her shoulder and she looks up. "Will other stuff change?"

"When you hit puberty?" Cassia nods. "Well, yeah. I don't know how much - you'd have to ask your dad that," Jane says, chuckling and motioning him with a tilt of her head.

Garrus rumbles and chuckles when she's sure all eyes zero in on him. "Well, I guess we might as well cover that too now." He motions his fringe. "Damocles' crests will grow out completely, straighten out instead of remain curled down like it is now. And, Cassia, you'll have some of your own facial plates grow out. You know how the back jut of your mandibles are already longer than your brother's?" When he gets a nod in answer, he smiles and says, "Those will get longer as well as these." He points to the plates that form a turian version of a cheek. "Then, your spurs grow out. Both of you will have your waists thin - Damocles more than Cassia - and you'll," he motions their son as he speaks, "get broader in the chest."

"What about me?" Cassia cups her chest, looking down to Jane, and understanding hits like a train.

"Oh!" Jane huffs a nervous laugh. "No, honey. You won't get boobs."

Cassia pouts for a moment, but easily shifts her expression as - Jane can  _swear_ \- some kind of realization surfaces. Her mouth opens as she stares at Jane before her mandibles click once and she hums softly. "Will I get to have hair?"

The sheer amount of want in Jane's daughter's tone hurts, tears down that wall of confidence over this seeming to go really well - if a bit jarring as obvious by the near constant quiet from the usually rowdy pair. Fighting not to frown, she swallows a few times. It's Garrus that breaks the silence once more, his voice saddened and vocals echoing with a low keen.

"No, princess. I'm sorry, but turians can't have hair."

"But I'm not really a turian!" Cassia grins, the hope in her voice and plainly written all over her face like a stab into Jane's heart. "I'm part human too!"

Jane has to fight not to dip her head in shame of not being able to give their daughter what she no dearly wants, logic be damned. Garrus, she sees, turns his head away for just a moment as his mandibles pull in against his jaw. Reaching up, she takes her daughter's hand, ready to break the worst news Cassia could possibly have at this age, but the young girl is just too damn smart, too aware of the world. Jane feels the little body deflate in the seat of the couch as Cassia keens softly, head drooping in acceptance.

"I'm sorry, Cassia," Jane whispers. "But I'll get you the most beautiful hair if you want. You can wear it whenever you want."

Cassia is silent for a long time before she shakes her head. "I don't want to wear other hair." Eyes moving under her brow plates, she seems to come to a decision. Looking up to first Jane, then Garrus, she asks, "Can I still dress like a princess?"

Jane smiles softly and nods, a slight sigh of relief escaping her lips. This she can give her daughter. If Cassia wants to dress like the fucking queen of the universe, then Jane will happily buy every fluffy, pretentious-looking dress her daughter can find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to check out my Tumblr for extra content and sneak peeks! :D


	17. Arts 11/2192

Garrus sits at the small kitchen table, steaming mug in hand, and watches Jane stand in the light drizzle falling from the gray sky.  The colder season has arrived, and brought with it plenty of rain and dreary days, leaving either himself or his mate to be responsible for taking their children’s varren, Xero out, down the steps, and closer to the beach to relief himself.  Last thing they wanted was another stint of colds at the twin’s expense - which is just as well given that, the last time they were sick, Cassia and Damocles had just enough energy to make it a living hell to clean up in their wake.

He shivers at the memory of when they had developed the bad habit of rubbing their noses on everything this first time they got really and truly sick.  They’ve gotten better since then on the few occasions they suffer from the sniffles, but that doesn’t leave Garrus in any mood to look forward to more.  If it takes himself or Jane taking care of the varren when it’s raining, then he’ll gladly play a human game called ‘rock, paper, scissors’ with his wife to see who loses at the cost of going outside in the cold.

This time just happens to be Jane’s turn and he can’t stop the warm buzz to his harmonics in relief just watching her out there, clearly annoyed with Xero taking his time without a care for the cold drizzle landing on his back.

Taking a sip from his cup, he glances towards the sound of heavy stomps coming down the stairs.  He watches as the twins run in, dressed in their swimwear, and swallows as he raises a brow plate.  “And where are you two going?”

“Outside?”  Damocles looks at him like he’s grown another head, the answer obviously something that Garrus should know just by their attire.

Garrus chuckles, setting his mug down and leaning back enough in his seat to let them see as he motions out the window.  “You mean out there?”  His mandibles flick into a smirk as they follow his gesture.  “You mean out in the rain?  Because it really sounds like you mean out in the rain.”

That seems to cut through their excitement as they look out the window, Damocles growling in a pout as Cassia lifts onto her toes and sets her chin on the table to look out at the - now - rain.  Garrus can swear he sees Jane start yelling at the varren, hunching to try and pull her jacket over her head.  Why she went outside without a coat with a hood, he’ll never know.  It looks like he’ll have to tend to a pouting wife as well as pouting children, but at least he knows how to cheer her up and it doesn’t even have to involve sex.  There are always more child-appropriate ways and he’s pretty sure this situation calls for that to be in the form of a warm cup of tea, dry clothes, and a warm blanket.

Rumbling, he looks over to his twins and lays a hand on Cassia’s head, stroking his thumb over forehead.  “Why don’t you two go get into something warm and we’ll figure out something to do inside.”  When she looks up to him, he smiles.  “I’m nothing if not inventive.”  She grins and nods, rushing out of the room and up the stairs.  Damocles, it seems, is less impressed with his dad’s assurances of something equally entertaining as swimming to do.  “Damocles,” he says, attracting the little one’s attention, “Why don’t you get back in your pajamas and I’ll make some hot chocolate.”

“But I like mommy’s.”

Garrus chuckles, admittedly relieved that he doesn’t have to try and make some hot chocolate even if Jane has pre-made a powder for it.  All he’d have to do is mix it into hot water, but if his previous forays into cooking can be any indication, then he’d find some way to make it the most disgusting thing the twins have ever tasted.  That’d  _ definitely  _ make the day worse for the twins if they think dad is trying to poison them with his horrendous cooking.

_ And Jane took to it like she’s meant for it.  I’m not surprised, really.  She has a way of accomplishing everything she sets out to do. _

“Then I promise I’ll get mom to do it.”  He smiles and glances outside to see Jane stomping up the steps, Xero just as soaked as she is.  “Now, you head upstairs and get dressed and I’ll do whatever it takes to get mom to make you her special hot chocolate.”

Damocles purrs and nods, running towards the stairs and, judging by the sound, stomping up the steps.  Huffing a chuckle, Garrus shakes his head at the way such a little child can always manage to make as much noise as a grown krogan and downs the rest of his now lukewarm tea.  He stands just as Jane opens the door, cursing under her breath about ‘this damn, stupid, pain in my ass varren’.  His cup is left on the table as he walks to her and takes Xero from her hands so she can pull off her wet jacket.

“I’ll get you some towels if you stay here.”  Rumbling, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of her head.  “Unless you want to wipe up all the water you’ll track in?”

“How about I wring your neck unless you help me get out of these wet, fucking clothes.”  Her tone holds anger, but she’s just too adorable for her ire to really have the desired effect and she sighs, slumping.  “Fuck, it’s cold.”

“At least kick off your shoes,” he responds with a chuckle and heads to the laundry room to get towels.

Shortly, she follows, her steps light as she clearly tries not to move too much as if walking too heavily will disturb the water absorbed in the fabric of her clothes.  He isn’t quite sure that’s how it works, but he won’t tell her his doubts for fear of getting more than a deadly glare.  Not long ago, he learned a human saying about any human with the color of hair she has and their tempers, and he’s starting to see the truth in it.  

Not that he’d ever tell her so and, if he admits, it’s all kinds of endearing to see such a tiny human rage around a two meter tall turian.  

“You’re taking him out next time, you know.”

“I don’t think it works that way.”  He laughs at the scowl she throws towards him and grabs some towels off the shelf, tossing her one.  They other he uses to wrap Xero in and rub at him to try and dry his hide.  Seeing her pouting like their six year olds, he purrs in apology.  “I’ll only take him if you help me dry off.”

She snorts, but a soft smile flickers over her lips.  “And what about me?  I don’t see you helping me dry off.”  She doesn’t see his tender smile because she drapes the towel over her head to rub at her hair.  “It’s a give and take, you know.”

“And I don’t deserve to be dried off for going out in the cold?  Turians don’t like the cold, have I told you that?”

When she swats him, he laughs again and sets down the varren to watch him run off to join his two partners in crime upstairs.  Turning to her, he grabs her hand when she moves in for another attack and kisses her knuckles, purring softly.

She scoffs.  “Don’t you give me that ‘turians hate the cold’ bullshit.”  Once as dry as she can be, she tosses the towel at the sensor for the door of the laundry room.  “Humans don’t really get all hot and horny for rain either.”

“Yes, but you have some nice, soft,” he starts, dropping his vocals and cupping her breasts, “insulation.”  He gives a slight squeeze, getting a laugh and squirm out of her.

“Cut that shit out.”  She pushes his hands away, grinning and cheeks flushed a light pink.  They always seem to do that when she comes out from the colder weather in what must be a warming mechanism.  “I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

Humming, he helps her pull her shirt off, the material heavy with water.  “Yes, but you can’t remain mad at me.  Because you  _ love me _ .”

“I’m starting to question why,” she grumbles as she pulls off her bra and tosses it into the hamper.

“How could you not?  I’m charming, funny, a hell of a shot-”

“Humble-”

“Yes, humble,” he agrees, chuckling to himself as he turns to search the basket of clothes clean and just needing to be folded in search of something comfortable and warm for her to wear.  “But you’re forgetting my most appealing quality.”

“Oh?”  Her pants and underwear land in the hamper with a wet smack.  “And what’s that?”

He waves a hand to motion his face.  “How can you not swoon at the sight of me?”

That seems to do it - even if it’s at his expense - as she bursts into laughter, then stops a moment, only to begin again more boisterously than before.  Sure, it does all sorts of good things to her bare chest, but he can’t help but think she’s getting too much entertainment out of this.  He watches as her face reddens and she cups her stomach, eyes clenched.  Admittedly, it makes him laugh on his own, if just at how ridiculous she looks and how happy it makes him feel to see her so relaxed and jovial.

Gasping, Jane wipes at her eye with a hand and reaches for the underwear on top of the pile of clothes in his hands.  “Wow… That was a good one.”  Her voice is hoarse and her breath coming in little gasps.  She can barely keep her balance as she bends over to step into her panties.

He snorts at her, rumbling and dragging a talon over her side to make her jump and yelp, bumping her head on his thigh.  “So good to see you approve of my good looks.”

Snapping the band of her short-looking underwear around her hips, she smirks up at him before grabbing the relaxed shirt from the pile.  “Uh huh.  Like your ego needs boosting.  I swear,” she says, tugging the shirt over her head and still talking even if it’s muffling some of her words, “You wouldn’t be able to fit that big head of yours in the house if you didn’t have me around to knock you down a notch every now and then.”

He trills in mock hurt.  “Jane.  You wound me.”  Scoffing lightly, Jane snatches her pants out of his hands and he happily offers his arm for her to grab onto in order to balance.  “It’s a good thing you’re so adorable.”

The sounds she makes could easily be called a squawk as she stumbles a bit and leans on him.  “You’re an ass.  I was just about to say okay to you needing to be dried off, but I think I may just lock the door so you can dry out in the sun on your own.”

“You’d miss me,” he purrs, smirking as she glances up to him.

She sighs as she tugs her pants up the last bit.  “Dammit, you’re right.  I’d never be able to get things off the top shelf if you’re outside.”

He laughs at her actually admitting to being short and follows her out of the laundry room and back towards the kitchen.  He’d be lying if he said he didn’t know her destination, the water heater.  “Oh,” he says as he remembers his promise.  “I may have promised Damocles that you’d make him some hot chocolate.”

Jane chuckles as she grabs an extra two mugs for the kids.  “I swear, you’d starve if you didn’t know how to at least make MREs.”  She gasps and her eyes widen in an obvious show of mock shock.  “Have we finally found something you’re not good at?”

“Had to level the playing field,” he remarks, that being the end of the conversation as she responds with an exaggerated snort on her way out and towards the kitchen.  Damocles and Cassia wait for them, bundled up on the couch under the heavy throws, Xero trying to burrow in to share the heat.  

“There’s my little terrors!”  Jane throws open her arms and cups first Cassia’s head to give her a kiss on the top of her head before doing the same to Damocles, though their son squirms under the affection.

“Momma, Daddy said you’d make hot chocolate,” he says with a huff, clearly not impressed with the distractions before he gets his hot mug of liquid chocolate.  

_ Never get in the way of children and chocolate of any kind. _

“Yes, yes.  Love later, hot chocolate first.”  Jane chuckles as she lets him go and smiles at Cassia, who is less impatient, though still obviously brimming with excitement.

Garrus switches on the vidscreen to keep them occupied at least until he and Jane can think up something to do, then heads into the kitchen to see what he can do to help.  Picking up his own mug from the table on his way, he rumbles and grins at her trying to do the very thing she earlier joked about needing him around for, reach for the hot chocolate mix on the higher shelf in the pantry.  He stops and leans on the dividing wall between dining room and kitchen.  “You look like you’re struggling there.”

“‘You look like you’re struggling there’,” she imitates, the mocking tone in her voice making her impression less like his own and clearly more high and annoying.  “Stop laughing at my pain and get over here to help before I tell the kids you’re the reason why they can’t have hot chocolate.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I really would.  Nothing is more frightening than those two when they don’t have food.”

He huffs a laugh as he easily takes down the glass container of powdered mix and hands it to her.  “You can’t tell me that’s not because of the start of their biotics.  There’s no way two children that small could eat so much otherwise.”

His wife laughs, a mug in one hand and two in the other.  How she can hold two in one of those tiny hands is something he’s still amazed at, but he’d be suicidal to question it aloud.  He’d probably find one of those very mugs aimed for his head.

“I don’t think it’s just the biotics.   _ You  _ eat a ton of food too.”  Each mug is set down with a thump and she adds, her eyes taking him in with her lips thinned, “I’m still jealous of that.  You eat and eat and you’re still stick thin.”

_ If only she really knew what he looked like compared to turian standards _ , he thinks as he laughs.  It’s just one of those things that’ll never equate, just as he doesn’t understand how the styling of human hair can affect the perceived femininity of humans.  His waist is  _ far  _ from slim after all the hard work he puts his muscles through in order to carry the weight of his armor effortlessly as if a second set of plates, but he thinks she may actually like it that way.  She certainly grips hard enough to dig her agile fingers into the thick muscle and pull sounds out of him he never imagined he could make.

Still, he purrs and lays his hands on her hips, leaning down to nuzzle the top of her head.  “I like you like this.”  He slides his hands higher to squeeze her softer waist, still able to feel the muscles flex as she squirms, but loving the added cushion she’s never been able to get rid of since the twins.  

She snorts and swats at him, waving a hand towards the water heater when he lets her go.  “No amount of flattery will stop my envious glares at you while you shove food down your gullet.”

He chuckles and pours the hot water into each mug, filling his own as well.  “If that’s what it takes for you to stare at me, then I’ll be sure to double my intake.”

“You’re so full of it I’m surprised your eyes aren’t brown,” she grumbles as she sets a bag of tea into her mug, a spoon of spices in his own, and finally scoops a good amount of chocolate powder into the kids’ cups.  

As she mixes the hot chocolates, he heads for the fridge to grab her sweetened cream and a fluffy version for the hot chocolates.  He has no idea why the three of them love such sugary drinks, but he’s not too surprised when considering how she’s always needed the sweetness for as long as he’s known her.  It used to be coffee, but, since she had to cut out the caffeine during pregnancy, he finds her new beverage obsession to much better, if not for the simple fact of it smelling better.  That coffee of hers - even  _ with  _ chocolate - always tended to have a scent of something burnt, but he’d be crazy to have ever told her.

Returning just as she taps the spoon against the lip of the second of the two mugs for the twins, Garrus hands her the cream for her tea while he takes over with scooping a generous amount of the white puff onto the steaming hot chocolate.  He barely catches a curious look from Jane just before she drops the spoon - and he can swear she does it on purpose.  She gives him an innocent look before glancing down to the ground where the utensil now lays.

“Can you get that?” she asks, smiling, and he raises a brow plate.  “Please?”

He hums in suspicion, but does as she asks because she seems to be occupied with dipping her tea bag in and out of the water in her cup before it can grow too cold to be completely effective.  Crouching, he picks up the spoon and moves it hand it back to her to toss in the sink, seeing a playful smirk on her face just before she taps his nose with a white covered finger.  At first, he blinks in surprise before the scent of the cold substance on his nose makes things clearer.  Once he figures out she flicked some of the whipped cream on his nose, he chuckles and grabs her chin so she’s unable to move as he rubs his nose against hers to share the mess she’s made.

Jane snorts and pushes him lightly, rubbing her nose with a finger.  “You weren’t supposed to rub it off on  _ me _ .”  Bringing her finger to her mouth, she cleans it off and he growls playfully.

“You tempt me,” he purrs as he wipes his own cream from his nose and licks his finger.  “Maybe later you can show me what other things that mouth can do.”

“Oh?  Sure.”  She hands him the two mugs for the twins.  “I don’t know why you like it when I whistle so much, but if you insist.”

He cringes at the memory of the piercing sound she calls a whistle.  “I was hoping for something much different.”

Walking back to the kids, he distantly hears her hum.  He’s sure she still had some wonderful joke in mind, but he’s pretty sure that they’d have to answer to a force more powerful than the Reapers in their two children.  As it is, the two are merely peeking over the back of the couch in anticipation and chirp excitedly when they see the prize in his hands.

He purrs and hands the mugs to each of them, their eyes wide in awe as if stunned each and every time they’re gifted with such delicious - too sweet for Garrus’ tastes - drinks, though they’ve had this plenty of times each rainy season.  Watching as they practically bury their faces in the fluffy topping, he chuckles and shakes his head.  “You act like we starve you two,” he says with an amused rumble, rubbing Damocles’ head because he knows he’ll always get a frustrated huff out of his son.  Cassia merely smiles up to him, her nose and mouth plates coated in the white cream, which only makes him laugh at how ridiculous she looks.

His daugher grins and trills happily before digging into her hot chocolate once more, leaving Garrus to accept his drink when his wife comes to join them.  Surprised that she also hands him her own tea, he lifts a brow in question, but she doesn’t speak.  She merely smiles in some sort of silent answer before rushing back towards the room that stands as their study and her studio.  He has no idea what she’s after, but he’s somewhat thankful that she seems to have some kind of plan.

_ Those are usually entertaining, even if they mostly involve breaking things. _

He takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch and sets her mug on the small table beside his side of the couch as he relaxes back against the cushions.  He considers grabbing the second throw to wrap around himself and start to warm with his own body heat for him and Jane to share, but his attention is drawn away as soon as he sees a glimpse of his mate rushing into the room, arms full of all manner of oddities.  Of those, he notices, are her guitar, a large, blank canvas, and bag of something clinking softly. 

“What’s that?”  Grabbing her guitar before she drops it, he sets it down against his leg to watch her reveal her collection.

“Something to do,” she merely responds, setting down the canvas on the table and opening the bag.  Her work at pulling small jars of color - paint, he figures - and setting them out in a neat line on the table attracts the twins’ attention and they sit in rapture, mugs held tightly in their hands.  “I figured we could do something besides watch vids all day.”

“What’s that?”  Cassia sets her mug on the table a bit too roughly, some of the liquid spilling and forming a ring around it as she leans over to look at the canvas.  “Will we get to paint?” she asks once she recognizes it.  “I wanna paint!”

Jane chuckles and nods, pulling out what looks to be the last of her supplies, a small ball of string.  That’s not something Garrus expected to be a part of this experiment at seeing just how much of their mother’s creativity they’ve inherited.  Catching her eyes as she sets it down to take a sip of her tea, he motions it with his free hand.  “And the string?”

“How am I supposed to teach them how to play if I can’t guide their fingers?”

“You’re going to tie their fingers to yours,” he says flatly, just imagining the mess they’d make if she ever went to guide her partner to either of their drinks.  “I can just see all the great things that’ll come out of  _ that  _ idea.  He can see half of her grin over the brim of her mug before she takes a sip.

“Can I play?” Damocles asks timidly, almost too quiet to be heard.

Garrus purrs at his son wanting to step out of his comfort zone to try and learn something he has always seemed interesting in watching his mother do.  Damocles isn’t one to try new things unless dragged into it by his sister out of what Garrus is afraid might be fear of the unknown result.  That he’d want to do something completely different from Cassia without being asked is a step towards, Garrus hopes, opening up to a chance to enjoy his barely begun life.

“Of course,” his mate says with a smile as she sets her mug down.  “Let me get Cassia and your dad started and then we can go.”

“Wait,” Garrus interrupts, a short trill of surprise coming out of him.  “Me?”

“Damn right.  I distinctly remember you saying you always wanted to learn how to paint.”

“Then you should also remember me finishing that statement by saying ‘I paint with Reaper blood’.”

She snorts and waves Cassia over.  “Yeah, yeah.  Well, just use that skill now.  I’m sure you won’t be  _ that  _ bad at it.”  

Patting the couch, she directs Cassia to sit up beside him.  He sets his mug aside and smiles at his daughter despite his misgivings at this activity Jane’s dropping into his lap.  Pulling Cassia into his lap, he takes the canvas as Jane lays it in the little one’s lap.  Like this, Cassia will be able to hold the canvas and he, in turn, will be able to reach the paints without worrying about pushing her off his lap.  With one final look over how she’s left them, Jane hands each a brush.

“Now.  Help us with this,” she says and hands Garrus the string and scissors.  “Doesn’t have to be tight, just enough so that I can lead his fingers.”

Damocles seems to be more excited than Garrus has seen him on previous days they were stuck inside because of bad weather, and he tries to tie the little fingers to Jane’s as fast as he can.  Once they are set, she lays her back against the couch directly beside his legs, situates Damocles between her legs, and pulls the guitar into their tied hands.  She begins to talk to him, going through directions Garrus has no idea how to interpret, but Cassia leans back against him before he can listen long enough to try and catch context clues.

“Daddy, paint with me.”  She gives him a pleading look and he chuckles softly.

“Of course.  No more distractions.”

The paintbrush feels awkward in his hand, as if not meant for three fingers.  He tries to imitate Cassia’s grip but, although it looks as close as he’s going to get, it just feels wrong.  Considering it just something that needs to become accustomed to over time, he waits for her to choose a color of paint - purple, her favorite color - before dipping into the green.  

“Okay,” he says, trying to draw out the minutes before he has to try and make something, “What do you want to paint?”

She hums in thought before chirping and sitting up straighter, dropping her brush onto the canvas.  Garrus watches as she swirls the brush to make five circular blobs in a circular pattern, wondering what the hell he’s supposed to do with that when she looks up to him expectantly.  Seeming to see his confusion, she giggles.  “It’s a flower, daddy.  Make leaves.”

“Right.  Sure.”  He lays the brush under the ‘flower’ and drags it down the canvas, the line turning out twisted and shaky as the bristles fan out.  He thinks he might have put too much pressure and tries to correct it, but only manages to make the stem thicker and even more messy.  “I’m not too good at this.”

Cassia giggles again and takes the brush out of his hand, holding her purple one in her mouth as she draws ovals along his stem - leaves, he realizes as she fills them in.  When she hands him the purple, he clicks his mandibles, sure he’ll find some way to mess up the second flower he expects she wants him to paint.

True to his worries, his petals come in different shapes than intended - one even looking suspiciously more like a square than circle while others come out more like elongated ovals.  He sighs in defeat and doesn’t hesitate when his daughter grabs for the brush to make more flowers on her own.  Giving up on his attempts to learn the nuances of art, he glances over to Jane and Damocles at his feet, watching as she seems to have finished her lesson and moved to finding position on the stings for a song.

“I see a train a comin,” she starts, Damocles’ fingers moving over the strings as she guides them.  “It’s rollin ‘round the bend.  And I ain’t seen the sunshine since I don’t know when.  I’m stuck in Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin’ on.  But that train keeps a rollin’ on down to San Antone.”  

His son flicks his mandibles happily, chirping as he watches his fingers move under his mother’s guidance.  “When I was just a baby my momma told me son, always be a good boy, don’t ever play with guns.  But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.  When I hear that whistle blowin’, I hang my head and cry.”

She takes a longer break of strumming the strings of the guitar, wiggling her foot in time.  “I bet there’s rich folks eatin in a fancy dining car.  They’re probably drinkin’ coffee and smokin’ big cigars.  Well, I know I had it comin’, I know I can’t be free.  But those people keep a movin’, and that’s what tortures me.”

Even Cassia stops her painting and kicks her feet in time with the catchy beat and Garrus rumbles at the sight of his son playing at his mother’s hands and his daughter happily dancing to it, even if the tune is a bit odd.  He just figures it’s a human thing to sing about imprisonment.  He can’t rightfully say he doesn’t like the way Jane lowers her voice, creates a forlorn tone that really makes him feel the words, and tries his best to set his vocals to the rhythm.

“Well if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine.  I bet I’d move it a little further down the line.  Far from Folsom Prison, that’s where I want to stay.  And I’d let that lonesome whistle, blow my blues away.”

As she plays the last few notes of the song, watching their combined fingers over Damocles’ shoulder, Garrus hears the high trilling of joy from their son that he’s sure Jane can’t completely understand at her hearing range.  He waits until they’re finished before purring and laying his hand on her shoulder, saying, “Well, we now know the kids didn’t get any of their artistic skills from me.”

Jane throws a look over her shoulder and laughs.  “Hey, you did pretty damn good to me.”

“You’re just flattering me.  It was all Cassia.”

“Nuh-uh!”  Cassia points to his sorry excuse of a flower.  “Daddy did this one!”

His wife smiles and nods.  “Do you like it?”

Their daughter pauses, looks intently at it, and answers, “No,” making both parents laugh full bodied, boisterous laughs.


	18. Palaven 5/2193

These quiet moments before his family wakes leads Garrus deep into those far off thoughts he usually keeps at bay with either the twin's or his wife's company. Tending to them in any way pushes aside the scars the war and Omega have left on his soul, silences the voice of guilt and washes away visions of the imagined deaths of his loved ones. He can't sleep because of them and his sleep cycles have long since adapted to the few - too few - hours he manages to get, but there is one benefit of it all. If not for his moments lying awake, listening to the soft breaths of his love at his side, he wouldn't be able to still Jane at the slightest signs of her nightmares and before her mind spirals too deep into that fog covered world she calls her living hell.

He thinks the saying for the stillness of this morning would be 'so far, so good' as he has yet to need to urge Jane awake or sing to her with his vocals in attempt to fight back her nightmares. He knows there's always the possibility of one right before she wakes, but it's not common, and she hasn't shown any of the signs that warn of an impending outburst. Still, he doesn't move himself to roll away from her side where he gently caresses the soft skin of her bare shoulder and upper chest.

Normally, he'd take a few selfish moments to tease her skin to see her body react to his touch, even in sleep, but the fact that they're currently sharing the small cabin of their transport with the twins throws any of those ideas out the window, as he's heard. Their soft little snuffles and snores remind him not only of their presence, but of the barely veiled stresses of what's to come when they reach their destination, his former homeworld of Palaven.

While he looks forward to seeing his father and sister and showing his children and wife his people's home since most of the destruction from the war has been repaired, he worries about his children who are now old enough to attract unwanted attention.

It won't be hard for any turian to recognize the family of the former Praetor who led the war effort alongside the Primarch. That kind of reputation doesn't lend well to the four of them staying out of the public's scrutiny.

He sighs, closing his eyes as another wave of stress washes over him. At least, he considers, his father and sister still live in the home the Hierarchy handed to Garrus at the end of the war. It's far enough from Cipritine to alleviate most of his worries, but there's still the concern of 'what ifs' surrounding all the plans he has of showing his family the sights of the capital. There's no idea when and if they will ever be able to return again.

A rustle of sheets at his side speak of his wife awakening and he purrs as he opens his eyes. Jane's eyes are still shut - clenched tight, even - and he huffs a soft chuckle as he caresses a knuckle over her forehead. His answer to his attentions are a grunt as she tugs the blankets over her shoulders and attempts to burrow her head underneath to stave away the morning.

She's absolutely adorable like this. Never would he have thought the savior of the galaxy would need to be pried out of bed like a thirty-nine year old child, and yet, here lies the conqueror of the Reapers, curled up under the warm blankets.

"Jane." A grunt is his only answer and he grins, reaching for the edge of the blanket to start peeling it away despite her grip in sleepy protest. "We're almost to Palaven." She mumbles something, but he knows her well enough to decipher the unintelligible sound. "Yes, you have to get up. Sol and dad will love seeing you."

He manages to pull the blankets over her head in the short moment of her incredulous snort and smiles at the green eyes that peek out as she tries to keep covered. "I'm sure they'd understand if I want to just sleep the whole visit."

Chuckling, he shakes he head and reveals more of her curled up form. "I doubt that. Besides, the twins won't want to leave without you." He tilts his head, humming in mock thought. "And I'm pretty sure Bassilus will want to take his ship as soon as his cargo is unloaded."

Bassilus Cavorn, Captain of the Wraith ship, Aevalina, happened to have Palaven on his route of shipments from and to Virmire. It took little thought for Garrus to ask the man for safe passage for his family in order to bypass public transport or flying in the Normandy. Both of those options, especially the Normandy, attracted far too much attention and, while Primarch Victus assured them that they weren't deemed criminals to the Hierarchy despite the Council, Garrus didn't want to run the risk of anything. At least, once on Palaven, his former rank of Praetor would earn him silence and some acceptance from wandering eyes.

If he really considers it, he still technically  _is_ a Praetor. Victus never relieved him of that duty.

Bassilus agreed to Garrus' request without hesitation, stating he owed the Wraiths his livelihood. Previously a very by-the-book shipping captain, he was transporting civilian goods under Hierarchy hire alongside his own side jobs of transporting the occasional passenger on nonclassified trips. It all came crashing down when he, unknowingly, provided transport to a small group of men transporting illegal drugs in  _interesting_ places. When the Aevalina was stopped, searched, and passengers found carrying contraband, Bassilus lost his contract with the Hierarchy, his shipping license forever tarnished with his arrest.

The Wraiths, not caring about his past, offered him a job when he was left to transport the more shady and dangerous of cargo. He gladly accepted, vowing to do anything they asked, and had been working to carry either men or exports and imports ever since. With his current shipment of weapons mods the Wraiths' weapons lab created or altered, he also had no problem giving Garrus and his family a ride and place to stay in one of the Aevalina's passenger cabins. All they needed to worry about was the return trip they'd be having with another Wraith transport that'll arrive to pick up some sand rovers they underhandedly bought from the manufacturer.

Jane makes a noise with her tongue between her lips. "Bassilus will wait." She smirks. "I think he has a man crush on you."

"A what?"

"Man crush," she says, chuckling as she finally sits up with a yawn and stretching her arms over her head. Once done, she scratches her head through her tangled curls and smiles down to him. "Instead of fucking you, he wants to gaze longingly at how  _cool_ you are."

Garrus chuckles. "He's grateful for the work and home on Virmire. That doesn't mean he has a 'man crush', it means he's not an idiot." He can tell in the way Jane bites her lip and makes a choked sound that she wants to laugh, but can't with the kids still asleep. So he decides to tease her as he adds, "Anyone would be insane not to think I'm 'cool'."

Making another noise like the first, she lightly pushes his shoulder to force him back onto the bed as she collects herself. "You're so full of it I wonder why your eyes aren't brown." She yawns again, covering her mouth and talking half way through. "You wake the little bastards and I'll get my personable face on."

He chuckles as he watches her stumble out of bed, quietly calling out to her as she heads for the door to the bathroom connecting to the empty cabin neighboring their own. "Love you." She merely grumbles in response with a jerk of a gesture over her shoulder that should concern him about whether or not she shares the sentiment, but he knows her well enough to understand.

She loves him too, just not this early in the morning.

As soon as the door closes, Garrus sits up, pulls the blankets off, and climbs out of bed. The Aevalina happened to have cots enough for the twins to have a place to sleep without being left alone to cause all sorts of damage while not under their parents' watchful eyes. They may be seven, but they still have a knack for destroying anything not bolted down - and sometimes even then. After the favor Bassilus is doing for them, it seems only fair that Garrus and Jane sacrifice their privacy for a few nights on the trip to Palaven in order to keep control over the twin's destructiveness.

Walking to the lumps concealed under plush blankets, Garrus flicks his mandibles in amusement at their soft, subvocal snores. He can only hope they learn to close their mouths when they sleep or their eventual bed partners are going to be in for a long night. Although, he distantly remembers that Sol used to snore as a kid, so maybe it's just a turian child thing.

Focusing on the sound of the pitch to the sounds, he crouches down beside the cot where he's sure his daughter lays and gently starts to pull back the blankets. Rumbling, he whispers to her, "Cassia, it's time to wake up." Lifting up a flap of blanket, he sees her curled up in her sleep. "Wake up, princess." When she smacks her mouth and tries to duck her head closer to her cowl, he chuckles lightly. "You want to see grandpa and aunt Sol, don't you?" A single eye opens and he smiles, nodding. "We're close to docking on Palaven."

His daughter couldn't spring awake faster if she tried, seemingly shaking off her sleep in an instant. If Damocles didn't sleep heavy enough that not even a Reaper's boomin, synthetic roar from outside could wake him, he's sure Cassia would have scared him awake with her high pitched squeal. As it is, the little turian doesn't even flinch beneath his pile of blankets.

"We're going to see Pop-Pop?!" Cassia's mandibles flutter against her jaw as she bounces on the bed in her seated position. When Garrus nods, her vocals rise to an even higher pitch that he never would have guessed possible for  _any_  turian. "Can I wear my new dress?!"

"Of course you can. You don't have to ask, silly." Garrus chuckles and leans forward to nudge her forehead with his own before looking to his still covered and sleeping son. "You get dressed while I do whatever is in my power to wake your brother."

He hears her shuffling and hopping to the floor behind his back as he gently pries the blankets off of Damocles. Rumbling, he can't help the smile at his son's relaxed and carefree expression coupled with a rolling snore. A loud and unconscious snort is all the sleeping child does at the interruption to his slumber.

"Damocles. It's time to wake up." Garrus starts soft, gradually raising his voice as he continues to try and rouse his son. "You want to see grandpa and Sol, don't you?" He continues to get no response. "What about seeing where your dad grew up?" Still nothing, so he tries a new tactic. "We can try all sorts of good food. You wouldn't want to miss out on that."

He still gets no response, not even to his bribe of food that never once failed him before, and he starts to wonder if he should go get Jane out of the bathroom. For whatever reason, she always manages to get him up and heading downstairs for breakfast. His  _first_ breakfast, Garrus has to remind himself.

_How he can stomach so much food, I'll never know. He even puts Jane's appetite to shame._

Before he can try a different tactic, Cassia does his work for him when she dives into the pile of blankets, and Damocles buried beneath them. Garrus has a split second of stunned silence, mouth hanging agape, before she bounces on her brother, chirping loudly. "Wake up, Damo! Wake up! We're gonna see Pop-Pop! And auntie Sol!"

With each hop on his bundled up body, Damocles grunts, gradually getting louder and more rough with an annoyed growl as he begins to stir. Garrus gently grabs Cassia's arm and urges her off her groaning brother, huffing a laugh at the complete shock he had in her actions. He  _should_ have been able to catch her before attacking her brother, but predicting that sort of thing isn't really something he learned in all his years before this morning. "Cassia, honey. Don't jump on your brother."

"But he was sleeping," she responds with an incredulous look. "I woke him up."

"Yeah. But not like  _that_." Releasing his daughter so she can finish getting dressed - only wearing the short tights that'll go beneath her dress - Garrus crouches down beside the cot and nudges away the blankets from where he assumes is Damocles' head. When he finds his son's irritated face, eyes clenched shut and mandibles pulled tight as if he can force himself back to sleep, Garrus rumbles. "You okay?"

Damocles grunts and his mandibles twitch once, clicking against his jaw. "No," he answers, a pout written all over his face and echoing in his vocals.

Garrus chuckles and caresses his knuckle up his son's nose and soothing the tension at the junction of Damocles' brow and forehead plates. "You have to get up now. We're almost to Palaven and grandpa is waiting for us." He smiles as Damocles' eyes open slowly, as if using every ounce of willpower to pry them open. "I'm sure he's going to take us all for breakfast."

That gets the child's attention as his eyes widen to full awareness. "Really?"

"Only if you get up and get dressed."

Damocles' petulant sigh sounds so much like his mother that Garrus has to fight back a bark of laughter. Instead, he manages to hide his amused rumbling with a smile and stands. He watches as Damocles throws the blankets off in a childish frustration before sitting up and yawning. Just as he stands up with a sway in his step, the bathroom door opens with Jane brushing her teeth, her hair already pulled back.

She mumbles something Garrus assumes relates to his success with the waking the twins. Following her to the trunk of their own clothes, Garrus waits for her to grab her own clothes before he pulls his own out. He goes for a simple, short sleeved vest and loose pants while she prepares her own, much more elaborate outfit.

In order to protect herself from the harsh sun, Jane's planned to wear some pants she calls 'jeans' and a long sleeved, but thin, shirt with buttons down the center. He's seen her in such an outfit before on Virmire, but still worries about its effectiveness. Last thing he wants is to let her get hurt, but he also doesn't want her to overheat.

_Have to remind her to use some of that higher grade sunscreen even under her clothes. Just in case…_

Leaving the kids to finish getting dressed in their clothes - and put on their single, wide toed shoes to hide their toes - Garrus joins his wife in the small bathroom. Soon, the twins will be at an age where they will no longer be able to do things like this - dress in each other's company without anyone protesting - and Garrus can't help but realize that means one thing, that they're growing up.

 _And I'm getting old_.

He chuckles and shakes his head as he closes the door to the bathroom behind him, thinking about just how soon it'll be before their groin plates finally separate.  _That_  will be the true sign of just how much time has passed. While he's not completely distraught over his children coming into their own, he does feel a bit like years have flown by while he back was turned. It feels like just yesterday he was approaching an mysterious human woman because protocol stated he had to look into the concerns of citizens.

Jane must have heard his amusement as her voice soon pulls him out of his reminiscing. "I feel left out on whatever joke you're laughing at."

Vocals rumbling, he smiles at her. "We're getting old."

As she tosses her sleeping shirt away, she snorts. "Speak for yourself. I'm technically two years younger thanks to Cerberus."

She smirks at him, hooking her bra closed in that backwards way she always does, and he huffs a laugh. "Anything to feel younger?"

"You know it." He rumbles in amusement as he shakes his head in response and she stops midway through pulling up her pants. "You still haven't told me just what brought that line of thinking on."

He takes a moment to pull on his own light pants before responding. He's pretty sure he's read somewhere that humans - especially females - don't like hearing about age. It's something about being raised to think aging equates to being old, as if that's simple, natural thing is a bad thing. He's even found stories of females getting angry and offended by it. Surely Jane wouldn't react the same, as she's already so different for the other females of her species, but he still wonders about crossing those little interspecies lines. Even if he doesn't intend to upset her, he'd much rather not run that risk in the first place.

When he feels her stare draw on long enough, he flickers his mandibles with a hum in his vocals. "I don't know whether or not I want to continue this conversation."

Jane snorts as she finally pulls on her shirt and begins to button it closed. "Don't tell me turians are afraid of being reminded of 'getting old'."

"I was thinking more about humans." He glances up from snapping his vest closed to see her raise a brow and clears his throat. "I heard… human females…"

That's all she seems to hear as she starts laughing, struggling to control herself so she can speak. Grumbling, Garrus lets her have her entertainment as he finishes dressing and turns to the sink to grab his coarse brush to clean his teeth. At least, he thinks, she's not still grumpy from being woken up, even if at his expense.

"Wow," she says, shuffling behind his back. "You really think I'm like other human women?" He merely shrugs in answer, pouring abrasive oil onto his brush. "Garrus, you're an idiot."

"So you keep saying," he says flatly in mock offense before starting to scour his teeth clean.

He feels her hand on his back as she leans over against his side and kisses his arm. "I don't care about being told we're getting old so long as you don't say it like it's some kind of plague." She huffs a short laugh. "If you treat me like I'm contagious or should be ashamed, well, then I'm going to be pissed, but I'm not in denial. I know people get older, but like hell will I let that stop me." He glances over to see her through the mirror and sees her grin before adding, "Hell, you and I can beat people with our canes if it gets to that point."

He laughs as best he can with the brush in his mouth and rumbles, smiling if not for the fact that he'd only make a mess by moving his mandibles with the oil still in his mouth. He mumbles something that's meant to mean 'looking forward to it', but he's pretty sure she doesn't have a clue what he's saying. Instead of responding to his intelligible response, she kisses as high as she can reach on his arm again before grabbing the tube of sun protectant and heading back out of the bathroom.

He hears her saying something about the twins getting their teeth brushed and barely manages to rinse his brush off before the two barge their way in. The obvious distaste for having to clean up is plain on their faces and it makes him bite back his laugh as he nods in agreement with his wife's orders. They scoff and pout, but grab their brushes with an extravagant show of effort.

"It's just brushing your teeth," he tells them, handing first his much more agreeable daughter the oil with Damocles next. "It won't kill you."

"How come we have to brush our teeth? They always fall out!" Damocles growls in frustration before finally shoving his brush in his mouth.

Garrus huffs and sighs. "Yes, our teeth can regrow, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't keep the current ones clean." When he gets an incredulous look from his son, he gives a pointed one right back. "And it makes your breath smell if you don't, so spend the few minutes it takes to brush them."

His son grumbles, but does as he's told. Assured that they won't just stop as soon as he turns his back, Garrus heads into the room to get his shoes. Jane's already coating her face in the cream using the small mirror she brought from Virmire - for her 'makeup' she had said - and turns to smile at him over her shoulder before continuing her work.

"Do you have a pocket to put this stuff in?" she asks, not turning back to him as she rubs the white cream over her skin to the point that it's no longer visible.

Garrus nods and joins her, offering a hand for some of the cream. When she squeezes some in his palm, he rubs it on the back of her neck and back that peeks out from the back of her shoulder when she leans over. "I can make it fit. How long does this last?"

"A few hours." He nods, taking note to put a timer on his visor once he puts it on. "You're going to time it, aren't you?"

"I am." Taking the bottle when she finishes her face, he slips it into one of the large pockets on his pants and walks over to grab his visor from the bedside table and leaves her to put on her face paint. "We shouldn't be out in the sun too much, but I don't want to run the risk."

She merely hums in answer and he slips the visor on, its interface coming to life. He runs through the diagnostic information out of a habit he's had for as long as he's been wearing it and, assured that nothing is amiss, sets a timer for three hours from now.

He heads over to the footlocker with his and Jane's things and pulls out his lighter boots with a hidden blade sheath and a pistol holster. They may have come to Palaven to relax with his family, but he's definitely not going out without any kind of insurance should trouble break out. While Jane has her biotics, Garrus wants to be sure he's equipped with more than his Omni-Tool.

_Time to see if I'm still a Praetor, or I'll be left to figure out another way to get my weapons past dock security._

Slipping a blade into his sheath and standing to buckle his holster beneath his vest, he hears the soft chime of the door's interface. He looks to Jane to see if she's too busy to check on their visitor and sees her eyes in the mirror, a silent request to check it out for her. On his way to the door, he slides his pistol into the holster before hitting the door's interface to open the comm. "Yes?"

"Sir." Garrus hums at the sound of Bassilus' second in command's voice as the woman continues, "We're docking with South Cipritine Station. The Captain wanted me to let you know."

He nods and hits the open command, rumbling at the female's stiff posture. "At ease, Straeca," he assures the tall woman with swirling, purple markings. "Let the Captain know we are ready." He glances over his shoulder to see Jane pulling on her shoes as the kids throw things into their open footlockers. "We'll finish packing up our supplies for transfer to the shipping crate." Returning his eyes to the XO, he sees her look up from seemingly counting the pieces of storage needing to be taken to his father's home outside of the city. "Bassilus still has an arrange for transport, correct?"

"Yes, sir." She gives a curt nod. "They will be waiting for your things as soon as we dock."

"Very well. Thank you." He hums a goodbye and holds back his correction when she salutes before leaving. Watching her go, he gives his head a soft shake before stepping back into the room to help his family pack up their things. "I will never understand why our men continue to salute us. We aren't military."

"No," Jane says as she snaps one of the larger crates closed. "But we run similar to one, so it's only right by them to salute you." She shrugs, tossing some dirty clothes in another. "I think it shows more respect than them not doing it, but it doesn't mean I'm going to  _make_ them do it. It's more their preference, I guess."

Rumbling, he bends over and hands Cassia her favorite doll to put in with her things. "I suppose you're right." He huffs a laugh. "Still not used to people saluting me."

"Garrus. It's been  _years_."

"That doesn't mean anything," he corrects with a chuckle. "I still remember the days of being in C-Sec where the only people calling me 'sir' were in handcuffs and trying to, what's the phrase, sweet talk me out of an arrest?"

She snorts and slams the final chest closed. "Don't lie. You like it."

He flicks a mandible in exasperation as he helps Damocles put the last of his things away and stands to take in the room for any last missing items. Looking and finding nothing, he rumbles and nods to himself. "Looks like that's everything." He smiles down to his children. "You two ready?"

"Uh-huh," Cassia shouts with a grin as Damocles purrs and nods rapidly.

"Will we get to eat breakfast?" the little boy asks and Garrus chuckles, nodding.

"Yeah, we'll get to eat with grandpa and aunt Sol." Motioning out towards the hall, he glances up to Jane and tilts his head in question. When she nods, he smiles and lays a hand on each child's back. "Alright, you two. Let's go see if we can watch the docking procedures in hopes that they'll hurry up."

They cheer as Jane says something under her breath about 'being left behind to do the hard work'. Garrus chuckles and takes Cassia's hand when she reaches up, laying his other hand on Damocles' back to lead him out and towards where he saw something similar to an observation room for the occasional guests located at the starboard end of this deck. When he caught a glance at it, it looked like it had two small windows, but they seemed big enough for the twins to at least get a look at Palaven outside.

* * *

If docking procedures had taken any longer, Garrus is sure the twins would have dug out pathways in the hull from their impatient running between the two viewports. He wasn't sure what their goal was, or if they believed they could rush the dock workers any faster by the power of their wills, but it felt like their frustrations spreading as he soon heard Jane's foot tapping and occasional irritated huff. It all was getting his own blood hot and he frequently found himself unconsciously rubbing his temple fringes to stave off a headache.

Impatience seems hereditary, now that he thinks about it.

When the docking procedures finally end and Bassilus approaches them to say goodbye, the twins literally drag Jane to towards the ramp off the ship and leaves Garrus to pleasantries. The older man chuckles as the two run by with their mother in tow in a blur, he rumbles and offers a hand to Garrus. Garrus takes it willingly, gripping the man's forearm and having his own grasped in turn.

"It's been a pleasure, sir," Bassilus says, his plates cracked with age shifting as he smiles softly. "I hope the ride wasn't too uncomfortable sharing a single room."

Garrus huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "That was our fault. Couldn't really trust the twins alone in a room, even if they were connected by a bathroom." The man nods in understanding, and Garrus almost wonders if Bassilus has had his own experiences with children. He decides that maybe there are reasons for both that experienced and silence concerning any real confirmation of it.

"Thank you, again," Garrus says, interrupting his thoughts and flicks a half smile with his mandible. "I don't know how we would've made it here without you."

"I'm sure another captain would have agreed."

"Not as quickly as you had." When the man chuckles, Garrus turns to leave.

"If you ever need anything, I will gladly be of service," Bassilus calls after him and Garrus waves a hand over his shoulder in acceptance of the offer. He may very well need to follow up on it if he ever wanted to take his family off Virmire without exposing themselves to legitimate transportation always under observation.

He makes it in time to get in line with his wife and children, offering to take Cassia's other hand in hopes of hiding her multiple fingers. With their summer clothes on, there is a high possibility that wearing gloves would attract attention, so the twins are left with the task of hiding their hands any chance they got in order to discourage curious eyes. Luckily, Damocles understands Garrus' intent by taking Cassia's hand not held by Jane and shoves his free hand into his shorts, the move easily blending into his bored demeanor for having to wait even  _longer_ before getting to see his grandfather and aunt. That, or Damocles is just impatient for breakfast now that his parents assured him that he'd have a chance to eat.

It turns out that Garrus, in fact, still carries the rank and authority of Praetor. When he leads his family from the front of the line to a security checkpoint, the attendant stops them before passing through the sensors. "Praetor Vakarian, sir?" Humming in suspicion, hoping that the Hierarchy hasn't changed its position on keeping from turning in one of their war heroes to the Council, he nods and the female clicks her mandibles with a wide-eyed look. "Spirits. It's  _you_!" Chittering, she waves him to take his family around the sensors. "You don't need to be checked, sir."

Figuring he might as well be blunt, he nods and walks to her. "I'm carrying weapons."

She nods and taps a command into her terminal. "Very well, sir. I've left a note for any other dock personnel." Rumbling, she smiles at his twins. "You're father is a hero here on Palaven."

Damocles merely turns his head away, fluttering his mandibles in shyness, but Cassia grins, purring as she says, "I know. He's a hero everywhere."

Garrus grunts in surprise and looks to the security attendant, not comfortable with so much praise. Jane sounds like she's holding back chuckles at his side and the woman slowly grins. Clearing his throat, he squeezes his daughter's hand in hopes that she won't say anything more to put him in an ever more uncomfortable position in the spotlight.

He forgets that the woman can hear his embarrassed vocals and she chirps in light hearted amusement. "You're children are adorable." When he nods in thanks, she looks between him and his family. "I hope you all enjoy your visit to Palaven."

"Thank you," Jane says, smiling and offering a hand, which the attendant takes in an obvious gesture she's learned working on the docks.

The answers vocals of awe echo off the woman - seemingly at shaking hands with Jane - but she saves the fanfare with an agreeable nod as the handshake ends. "Have a nice day, ma'am."

Making their way towards the commercial area of the docks where vendors often set up small kiosks to appeal to passing travelers or ship workers. Last he heard from his communications with his father and sister, that is where they would be waiting. As they walk, the children can't seem to manage to see everything as their heads swivel every direction, but he still feels eyes boring into the side of his face.

Glancing over to his mate, he finds her smirking. "What?"

"She was cute," she says, grinning now and flicking her eyebrows up and down.

He isn't quite sure how to respond to that, knowing how possessive she can get. Flicking his mandibles, he looks forward. "I guess?"

At his discomfort, she starts to laugh and releases Cassia's hand just long enough to playfully push at him. "Wow. I got you on that one, didn't I?" She smirks and chuckles, her laughter softer. "You know, you can still look at turian women. I look at turian men."

He snorts at her subtle joke and rumbles. "That's just you." Smiling, he purrs softly. "I mean it when I always say it's just you."

She wrinkles her nose and makes a groaning sound. "You're such a sap." Her expression softens and he swears he can see a slight blush on her cheeks. "And I may joke, but you're always the one I want in my bed. In my  _life_."

He knows she's said it before, countless times, but he always feels a deep vibration in his chest and a heavy thumping to his heart every time she assures him. He knows he'd never be able to flirt and tease other women like she does men, but that's just how he grew up. He always watched his mother deny flirtations from males whenever she was alone while his father was on the Citadel working and it just seems to have rubbed off on him. He's always felt uncomfortable accepting sexual praise when in a relationship - of which he's only had two - even when he openly accepts it while single, so maybe it's just him.

He knows that Jane never shows her true self to anyone but him and that's proof enough that she is his, and he hers. He doesn't mind when she teases friends because her goal is usually to entertain herself and others, but he's noticed how she has the occasional flirt outside of their circle of friends in attempt to get him wound up. Her goal is always to make him suffer long enough to turn it back on her in their intimate moments, ever in control, and he won't deny that, sometimes, he likes when she plays with his possessive streak.

Wanting to play her own game, he finally hums in mock thought. "You know, now that I think about it, she did have the best waist…"

She snorts. "Of course you'd go right for the waist. Perv."

"Mom," Damocles speaks up from her side, apparently catching some of the conversation, "what's a 'perv'?"

"It's what your dad is."

"Don't teach them-"

"Pop-pop!" Cassia grins and runs down the clear path between the two, inward facing rows of vendor stalls. Damocles quickly forgets his question and chases after her straight to Garrus' father just meters away in the parting crowd.

His father crouches down and the twins wrap their arms around his neck, surprising him at a human show of affection he's still learning thanks to the too few times they can all be together. After a moment, his expression softens and he lays a hand on each child's back and ghosts a mandible over theirs. Garrus and Jane meet them just as he looks up and smiles softly at Garrus, and the younger male actually smiles back.

"Hey! Where's my hug?!" Sol kneels down just as the two children practically fly into her arms. She's much more used to hugging and doesn't hesitate to squeeze them in the circle of her arms, making them laugh and squirm.

Jane chuckles as Garrus helps his father up. "They've missed you guys."

"Pop-pop. Daddy is a perv," Damocles says and Garrus' mandibles drop in shock as his father does much the same in response, eyes widening as his mouth gapes. Jane merely laughs and rubs the boy's head.

Garrus' father gives him an expectant look and, still feeling like a child, shrugs in innocence. "I don't know what he's talking about. He must have heard it somewhere." He gets an unbelieving rumble in response, but, thankfully, Damocles saves him from the very situation he just got them all into.

"Can we eat?"

Sol nods and takes his and Cassia's hand in each of hers, grinning down at them. "Let's go. We'll get something on the way there."

"'There'?" Garrus rumbles in question, looking to his father. "Where's 'there'?"

His father hums and gives a mere, "Someplace that wasn't completely destroyed in the war" as an answer.

* * *

Despite the blistering heat that felt like  _walking on the surface of the fucking sun_ , Jane found breakfast to be quite pleasant and, dare she say it, good for a planet where their amino acids weren't even the stuff her food was made out of. It was technically mid morning on Palaven, but brunch was just as good as nothing, especially where the kids were concerned.

She could have described her meal as something close to an open-faced sandwich, with a kind of bread-that-wasn't-bread topped with a sort of loaf of purplish meat and a side of oddly colored - what she guessed - vegetables. The waiter promised it was an asari fusion dish that had been ordered plenty of times during reconstruction by levo customers, so Jane figured it was worth trying food apparently every color of the rainbow.

The kids loved their… whatever it was. Despite Garrus' own order of nothing but chunks of a dark meat that supposedly could only be ordered on Palaven due it being unable to transport, the twins got something much like breaded strips and a slimy-looking gravy. It definitely didn't look appetizing, but Jane took note of trying to see if she could learn to cook it back home. She might even get bonus points for figuring out that side dish that looked like gelatin with chunks throughout.

Titus was mysteriously quiet through the meal, with Sol taking up most of the conversation with her constant questions and need for stories from Virmire. Garrus would often ask his father of the plans for today, but they all only got vague answers for their troubles. Whether or not Sol knew where they were going was difficult to determine but, either way, it was obvious she wouldn't tell. While it did seem odd, Titus didn't really seem upset, but mostly lost in his thoughts in the way he would flick his mandibles occasionally out of time with the conversation.

When it was finally time to pile into a transport big enough for all of them, the older man seemed to cool down some. He would often look between the twins or the viewport as they rode the automated vehicle, fluttering small smiles or nodding at questions they threw his way. Hell, he even gave responses at time as he slowly withdrew from whatever daydream he was in. It certainly seemed to calm Garrus down when Jane felt his tense body at her side relax some.

The closer the got to their destination, the more Garrus seemed to be putting together where they were going. Still as great a detective as before all this shit in their lives, he would often narrow his eyes at each passed building or turn in their route. Eventually, he glanced at his father and, getting some answer he was looking for, relaxed in his seat and joined in on whatever trivial questions they were all engrossed in. As the transport finally slowed and lowered, Jane finally leaned over to check the window - not that she'd know what she was seeing.

"I can't believe this place survived," Garrus says as he lifts open the door on his side of the transport and steps out.

Jane nudges Cassia out of the vehicle ahead of her and Garrus takes her little hand to support her when she takes the step down. On the other side of the vehicle, Damocles merely jumps out and runs around to join the two just as Garrus offers Jane a hand.

Finally stepping out into the light and looking around, she sees a large, marbled building with turian script carved over the arched doorway. It definitely seemed to have taken some damage in the war by the sections of wall that obviously looked newer that the seemingly hundreds of years old stones. Still, it was better than many of the pictures she had seen of Palaven directly after the Reapers even when she imagined what it looked like before the repairs. She could only guess what remained of what lay inside.

Walking hand in hand with Garrus, the twins with Sol and Titus slightly in the lead, Jane's eyes remained on the script above the doors. It was old script, looking much like the older, mostly forgotten Palaveni language Garrus was still trying to teach her and the kids. As she tries to figure out what the hell the lines intersecting each other mean, she stumbles a bit on a step and nearly falls on her face if not for Garrus' grip tightening and holding her up.

Looking down at her as she straightens, Garrus chuckles. "Do I need to start worrying that they slipped you something in your drink back there?"

"Ha," she says flatly, gesturing to the script as the rest of the family stops at the doorway to wait for them, looking back in question. "I was trying to figure that one out."

He rumbles and looks up, dropping his eyes back to her with a smile. "' _Bellum omnium contra omnes._ '"

"Oh, wow. Thank you for telling me something that still doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense." She sighs and starts to walk towards the others, not feeding his tendency to tease her about not catching onto the turian languages as fast as he did english.

He chuckles behind her and widens his step to catch up to her side. "Why didn't you ask what it meant, then?" She swats at him, making the twins giggle and Sol grin at her brother getting the brunt of frustration. "Fine, fine. It means-"

"The war of all against all," his father says with a deep thrum to his voice. "This is the Museum of the Unified People."

As the twins groan at being taken to a museum that they obviously find boring, Garrus nods to Jane and smiles. "It's the only museum to the Unification War that still exists." He hums and adds, "It lost some artifacts, but they brought what little survived from others."

Jane tilts her head in interest and nods. "Cool. You'll translate for me, right?" She narrows her eyes as he moves to open his mouth. "And actually say what's on the plaque and not bullshit me?"

Titus merely turns away to lead the way as Garrus chuckles and nods. "I'll hold back, this time."

Jane can hear Titus begin to point out and explain weapons used in the war thousands of years ago. Much like humanity, they started with really shitty guns, it seems, as she looks up at a turian dummy with what could barely be called armor holding the clunkiest looking weapon she's ever seen. Looking over the dummy, she can see numerous faults in its armor, and even places where it seems the actual wearer took hits. Draped over it were numerous, heavy looking, straps of munitions.

Looking at the plaque, she tries - and fails - to read the text mostly obscured by soot and damage from the war. "Little help?"

"It's an infantryman," he says without even looking to the inscription. "They had the bottom line weapons and armor." He hums and tilts his head, pointing to a hole in the chest of the armor. "That's a killing shot. Poor bastard probably bled out on the field."

"Damn." She looks over to him. "How did the more equipped soldiers do?"

"Well, if you're talking Hierarchy, really well. The colony armies had no chance." He waves a hand in 'follow me' and leads her to a dummy that clearly looked more agile. Its weapon looked lighter and able to hold more than one fucking bullet like the other clunker. "This is the best armor and weaponry colonies would have. And soldiers usually didn't have both weapons and armor at once. It was all usually a trade off."

"Damn… It's really shocking to see that turians don't have top of the line shit."

He chuckles and shrugs. "To them, this  _was_ top of the line."

"Daddy, look!" Damocles bounces further down the room, pointing to another dummy. "I wanna be this guy!"

Jane lifts a brow and looks to Garrus before her mate chuckles and takes her hand. "I bet I know which one he's talking about." Approaching the model, it's clear this soldier was  _massive_. Or, at least, his armor made him so. Apparently right in his guess, Garrus rumbles with a smile as he glances down to their son. "Has grandpa told you who these soldiers are?"

"Nuh-uh."

Cassia uses the plaque to lever herself up and over to read the inscription. "Sal… solar…" Garrus lets her try a few times before she huffs and looks to him expectantly. "Daddy…"

" _Salararius,"_  he supplies, rumbling as he smiles, and his father picks up the description.

"These men and women were mercenaries, Damocles. That means they have no allegiances, but to themselves and credits."

Garrus sighs at his father's pointed jab at Jane and his chosen career - the only one that let's them choose their own battles instead of being a glorified attack dogs- and Jane squeezes his hand to calm his irritation. It takes a bit, but he eventually relaxes and shakes his head. "Do you have to say it that way?"

"Is it not true?"

"You know damn well we aren't like other mercenaries-"

"Oh-kay," Sol interrupts, taking the twin's hands and motioning Jane to come with her. When they are out of earshot of the two arguing men, she sighs, her mandibles fluttering. "I don't know why they always manage to find something to fight about."

"They're men?" Jane teases and Sol finally smiles, rumbling in amusement.

"Maybe you're right." She looks down to Damocles. "Don't you be like them." Jane's son grins and nods. Purring, she releases his hand to point to a large diorama of a large battle. "Why don't we check that out? It's like little toys fighting."

Both children grin and almost drag their aunt off her feet and Jane has to hurry to catch up, chuckling. At their arrival to the large - at least two meter by two meter - display, the kids put their hands up against the glass surrounding it on all sides, giving a three hundred and sixty degree view, and press their faces to stare inside. They start to call out ideas of what they think is happening to each other as Sol and Jane take a seat at a visitor's bench that overlooks the exhibit.

Sol hums and flicks her mandibles, looking out at the diorama. "So…"

Lifting a brow, Jane turn to her. "So?"

"Any chance we could talk? Girl to girl?"

Jane chuckles and shrugs. "Don't know if I qualify as a 'girl' anymore, but sure. What's on your mind?"

"Not what,  _who?_ " She flutters her mandibles shyly and finally looks to Jane. "I may have been talking with one of your former crew."

"James?"

Sol's eyes widen. "What? How did you-"

Jane snorts and smirks. "Please. I see these things." She chuckles and relaxes on the bench. "Plus, I always see how you make googly eyes at each other when you're around. Plus, James sorta asked me about turian tips awhile back. Honestly? I'm stunned you haven't done anything sooner."

Her sister-in-law frowns slightly. "He's always dealing with the Alliance and, whenever he has shore leave, it's either in human territory or too short to travel and meet up." She huffs and half smiles just like her brother does. "We just barely started something."

"Took you two long enough."

"Yeah, yeah," Sol retorts with a wave of her hand. "Not everyone can just jump right in. And James was a bit worried about Garrus' reaction. Apparently humans get overly protective of siblings?"

Jane shrugs. "Usually for sisters, yeah. It's like a 'you're not good enough' sort of thing." She snorts and lifts a brow. "I thought turians don't give a shit?"

"Well, no, we don't, but you think I could convince him?" She rumbles in amusement and she leans back on the bench as Jane looks back to the kids playing. "It took some time, but I think he's still wary. I'm pretty sure Garrus would give him a hard time either way-"

"But he wouldn't outright tell you two not to get together." Jane chuckles and leans her elbows on her knees. "You're dad, though…"

"What's the saying? 'Screw him'?" When Jane looks over her shoulder, she catches Sol's smirk. "What? You're rubbing off."

Laughing, Jane sits up and butts her shoulder against Sol's. "Tell you what, I'll see if I can finagle a way to get you two together on the Citadel or something. Does ask the Alliance because they'd deny it, but the Wraiths have a bit of an underhanded deal with them to supply weapons mods for cheap." She smirks at the thought of what she says next, "They don't know we practically sell to everyone with this same secret arrangement, but the point is that I can request Vega to do the inspection and handoff."

She hears a trilling gasp beside her and the sound of clothing shuffling as Sol sits up. "You can?"

"Sure. Why not?" Jane sees Garrus and Titus approaching over Sol's shoulder and nods to assure her sister-in-law once more. "I'll give him the plan. But we'll keep this from Garrus for now," she says, frowning slightly at the pissed look on her husband's face. "He doesn't look like he's in the mood for teasing."

Sol sighs in exasperation and stands up. "Figures." Smiling, she chirps and walks towards the twins. "You two ready to go see the big trucks we used to drive?"

"Yeah!" Both say as they rush to take her hand and she and Titus continue on deeper into the museum, Jane and her pissed husband in tow. She's sure he'll cool off before they get out, but, for now, she'll let him brood in the back of the group with her.


	19. Training 10/2193

Arcanus could already hear the soft clinking coming from the kitchen to announce the twin’s completion of their breakfasts.  Why they insisted on eating the colorful chunks of nothing but sugar called Blast-Os still eludes him, but he might just be able to use that energy for today’s training session.  They may be only seven in Earthen years - Earth being their birthplace and, thus, easiest means of calculation - but Garrus has already begun to teach them how to shoot and their mother has begun biotics lessons.

While skilled in the matter of harnessing biotic power into a destructive force, Jane doesn’t have quite the amount of experience in teaching her children to hold a barrier.  If Arcanus is to let Cassia and Damocles onto the field, he will make sure they can form the strongest barrier within their capabilities.  It’s also less of a struggle with their parents when Jane herself admits any of her training involves offensive biotics and happily agrees to his own training.

Looping the last of his robes’ closures into place, Arcanus smooths the black fabrics before turning to return to the twins before they can become restless in his absence.  Admittedly, he is not suited to tend to children of any age without Elyse’s aid, but she seems to have left the house in search of something to do instead of watching the training.  Just as well, he considers, as she’s apt to disprove of his planned incentive, even if it holds no possibility of harming either child.  She is much more comfortable tending to the energetic children than he is.  He despises admitting any sort of inability after so many years of needing to remain at his best or risk being assassinated for his position, but these two Vakarian children have managed one thing even a Thresher Maw was unable to do.

These two children, small as they are at their age, leave him completely unprepared more times than he cares to admit.  Yet, he realizes, the feeling doesn’t create as much discomfort as he would have previously imagined.

He finds Cassia and Damocles sitting at the small kitchen table.  Arcanus wishes he knew exactly what Elyse told them for them to get dressed with only a single request, but he’ll just have to accept that it’s apparently possible.  Innocent as they pretend to be, he has a deep suspicion they can sense his lack of knowledge in their care and take advantage out of jest.  It is often disconcerting to consider such little beings could possess such an ability.

Seeing his approach, Cassia finishes her glass of some levo excretion the twins also use in their breakfast cereal.  Even if it provides protein, Arcanus still finds the color and consistency unappealing, but it seems to be a common substance to humans as Elyse, too, uses it on occasion in her tea.

“We put our dishes up,” Damocles says as he looks up and points at the automatic washer.  The tone in his voice speaks of pride and he rumbles in a way that Arcanus feels is expecting a response.

“Very good.”  He gives a curt nod and watches as Cassia hops down from her seat and places the last dirty dish in the washer before looking to him with a smile.  Neither of them know how to activate the washer, which seems the best decision on all of the adults’ parts given the amount of damage the twins could make if they did, so Arcanus presses the commands to start a wash cycle.  “I am pleased that we all do not have to perform the usual routine of the mornings you stay here for a time.”

Damocles merely grins, knowing entirely too much of the difficulties he and his sister bring when they insist on being slightly petulant when he wakes them - and apparently taking great pleasure in it - as Cassia giggles, both of their vocals chirping in obvious jovial triumph.  Normally, Arcanus wouldn’t stand for such insubordination, but the twins seem to have a otherworldly ability to assuage any irritation.  

He admits he sometimes enjoys the challenge unlike any other he can find in his work.

Cassia rumbles questionly and looks him over with her large, pale blue eyes as if trying to decipher some perceived puzzle.  The child is much too observant in the physical changes of someone’s person and Arcanus realizes he’s currently collecting his biotic energy in preparation for the lesson - a natural, unconscious action after so many years.  

She draws his attention when she lifts onto the tips of her toes before lowering again.  “What’re we gonna do today?”

“I will teach you how to harness your biotics for a more defensive use.”  He motions them towards the back doors where he’s already prepared their training kits while they were still asleep this morning.  “While your mother is perfectly capable of teaching you the damage biotics can cause, you will also need to be able to protect yourself should you ever find yourself in a dangerous situation.”

Damocles grunts and scowls.  “Why?”

Glancing down to Damocles, Arcanus flicks his mandibles in anticipation for a long day of questions.  “Without the knowledge of how to form a barrier, you will not be allowed into any combat situation.  Your parents and I are in agreement in that matter.”  

Tilting his chin towards the sets of weighted suits for the twins that will simulate a set of armor, he rumbles in a wordless completion to the conversation.  The two huff in a juvenile form of irritation, but they proceed to the laid out equipment and look at it curiously.  Damocles lifts up the upper half of the suit with a trill of confusion as Cassia flutters her mandibles and looks to Arcanus as he approaches to pick up the only practice weapon, a pistol armed with harmless foam projectiles.

“What’s that?” she asks, pointing to the weapon in his hand as he picks up a small canister of the practice ammunition.

“Incentive.”

“Huh?”  She tilts her head and frowns in bewilderment.

Looking down to her and her brother, whose attention he now has as well, Arcanus slips the canister of ammunition into a hidden pocket on his robes.  “It is not enough to simply form a barrier.  It must withstand the force of weapons fire.”  His flicks his mandible once, considering just how long it will take them before they will be able to move onto the task of deflecting live rounds.  “We will begin with a situation more suited for the beginning of your lessons.  It will not harm you.”  Out of habit, he begins to look over the faux pistol.  “You should both put on the custom suits that will replicate the weight and fit of your future armor kits.”

Cassia nods and starts to examine the suit for only a moment before Arcanus hears a grunt, presumably of surprise as she also looks up to him with a frown of pulled in mandibles and drawn brow plates.  It is Damocles, however, that speaks a protest heavy with a sulkiness that reminds Arcanus of just how young the two are.  Any other turian wouldn’t yet be in the midst of training for any sort of combat, but these two are, as in every other way, the exception.

“But they’re so  _ heavy _ , Kunkle.”  The young boy groans aloud, his shoulders slumped in a way belying the true weight of the suit in his hands.  If his posture were to be believed, one would expect the kits to weigh as much as actual heavy armor, but that is far from the case.  Even an adult’s light armor would have more weight in comparison.

“They are no such thing,” Arcanus reponds, humming in a gentle command.  “No more arguments.”

“Why are they so heavy?”  Cassia, despite her question, still starts to pull on the loose pants meant to weigh down her legs in a way very similar to the armor it is an imitation for.

“They are meant to simulate the heavy armor you will be wearing.”

“But what if we don’t want to wear heavy armor?”

Arcanus stops on the bottom step of the deck and looks over his shoulder to the the two sets of eyes on his back.  “Your parents and I have deemed it most appropriate.”

Both twins look to each other and Arcanus turns away to let them silently hold a conversation that seems possible only between a shared and invisible connection between the two.  No true scientific explanation exists to support his suspicions, but experience over the years of witnessing their interactions speaks to the contrary.  It is one of the few seemingly supernatural instances that Arcanus is willing to accept.

He walks away from his home and towards the smooth sands of that lies in the expanse between the first of the buildings of the compound and the edge of the sea.  It will provide a forgiving ground should their lessons lead to either of the twins falling.  While not as a result of his own actions, he suspects that one way of testing his own barrier in their teachings will lead to one or the other trying to charge through.  Learning that brute force will not break through the strength of offensive biotics will be one of today’s teachings.

Now ready to begin, the twins drag their feet in the silky sand as they approach him to stand before him.  He clears his throat once to direct their attentions to himself and rumbles quietly at the fact that, despite their upset over his chosen equipment they must wear, they stand taller and focus.  He nods in approval and praise before crossing his hands behind his back, the pistol still in one palm as he sees no reason to holster it when he’s sure of the amount of times it will be needed.

“Very well,” he starts, his voice steady and golden eyes scanning over their forms.  “We will begin with creating a barrier.  Then we shall test their strength before learning how to break another’s.”

“But…”  Cassia stops and looks aside, where in her brother apparently finishes the thought.

“How are we supposed to make one as strong as yours?  Isn’t yours supposed to be unbreakable?”

Arcanus purrs softly at their understanding and nods once.  “It is.  However, for your lessons, I will decrease its strength in relation to your current capabilities.  It would not do to train you both against odds not in your favor as you would not learn appropriately.”

The young girl hums as she seems to examine Arcanus with eyes he has always believed belong to a much older, much wiser individual.  “But we’ll never be as good.  What if someone else is like that?”

Arcanus glances between the two, his mandibles lifting before lowering in consideration of how to quiet such thoughts.  It won’t do to have them not expressing their full potential because they do not have the will to make the attempt because they believe they will do nothing but fail.  In his life, he hasn’t been in a position to teach another in any way that didn’t involve dealing with punishment for a failure by a subordinate, but these two are not his subordinates.

They are his family.

When he feels he has taken too long to respond, he relaxes and lays his free hand on her head.  “Do not compare yourself to the ability of others, but to who you were the day before.  Always strive to be better than your past self and you will become strong in your own way.”  He moves his hand to Damocles, adding, “Do not expect to excel in what someone else can accomplish, but pave your own way to success.”

This silences them and Arcanus is left to wonder just how his words are taken by the two, but he cannot go back and rethink the possible ways they can be left to interpret them.  It is already said and will prove to be a learning experience for all three of them should his teachings lead to more disastrous outcomes because he hasn’t considered the ways a child’s mind can disect a statement to suit their own thoughts.  Sometimes, much like now, leave him thinking of just how far out of his comfort zone the two put him because Elyse, Jane, and Garrus all seem to have taken to training the youth as if ingrained.

Humming at that thought, Arcanus steps back from the twins and focuses his attention on their expectant expressions.  He takes a moment to consider how to put the act of creating a barrier into an understandable concept, not imagining he’d have the need to do so for something as natural as breathing.  Reluctantly, he admits that he should have paid more attention and taken note of how he was taught by his asari biotics instructor in his own youth.  Once he feels he has an ampt means of putting the concept to words, he flicks his mandibles with a twinkle of the gold rings in his mandibles and begins.

“Creating a barrier is less of an outward force of energy and more a inward concentration before manifesting it around your person.  We will start with drawing the energy surrounding every biotic into yourself.  Close your eyes…take a deep, steady breath.”  He waits for them to follow his commands, watching their chests expanding in their inhale.  “Release while maintaining the same steady control.  Continue.”

Arcanus starts to circle them, watching as they focus solely on the action, but mostly to determine if his hypothesis of how to describe the sensations so natural to him is working.  With the feeling of the ever present energy flowing from the twin’s bodies gradually calming from a static sensation much like the air of a building storm, he can assume he’s on the right train of thought.  Though they don’t possess the firm hold of control of their biotic energies, he believes he can begin to show them how to develop a barrier on which they can improve.

“Very good,” he says as he steps back in front of them both.  Their eyes are still closed, but Arcanus has to rumble to continue to do so when he sees them clenching their eyes in a child-like attempt to keep them sealed as if eyes opened on their own accord.  “Keep them closed.  Relax.”  Dropping his vocals to a soothing purr, he takes a moment to match his steady breathing to theirs.  “On this next inhale, pull your energy inwards.”  They do so at his command and he gathers his own biotics around his form, the static in the air teasing his plates.  “On the exhale, push outward and hold before the energy dissipates or manifests into a offensive attack.”  

Damocles frowns in confusion and Arcanus can feel the pressures of their collected biotic wane, but Cassia seems to understand enough to ask, “Like a bubble?”

“Like…”  Arcanus stops and hums in consideration.  “Yes, like a ‘bubble’.  Create one around yourself when you release your tight grasp of your energy, no longer radiating it once you visualize a ‘bubble’.”

In true form for the young boy, his impatience seems to take hold as he forces his collected energy outward with no control or focus.  As a result, Arcanus feels the wave of charged air roll across his own barrier before Damocles physically slumps from overexertion.  His sister seemed to have a greater control, but her own barrier collapses in a matter of seconds.

“Try again.  Damocles, do not use the entirety of your biotics.  You will not be able to maintain a strong enough barrier so soon in your training without it draining you, delaying your development.”  Walking towards Cassia, Arcanus taps a finger under her chin.  “Breathe, Cassia.  Holding your breath as you materialize a barrier will cause you to pass out.  You will have a stronger grasp if you treat a barrier similar to your father’s lessons on long range shooting.”

Understanding flashes in her eyes and Cassia nods, taking a few deep breaths.  Looking to Damocles, Arcanus waves to step closer and drops his own barrier in order to create it in unison with the twins.  When the young boy steps before him, his breaths slowing to a more steady tempo, Arcanus silently praises Jane and Garrus’ lessons in endurance through their own training sessions - both physical in the form of sparring and biotic.

“With me,” he commands softly, exaggerating his breathing so that the twins can follow in his tempo.  “Breathe in.  Hold.  Push outward into a physical barrier around yourself.”  It’s only a moment between when he brings up his own barrier and when the sensation of highly charged ozone brushes against him.  “Very good.  Hold it and we can test its strength.”

He unholsters the pistol and rounds the twins, proud to feel their barriers the same strength all around their form instead of just in front.  He remembers from his own training long ago that some would need further training to be able to develop an all encompassing barrier when the mind tends to focus on what is directly before the wielder.  That the twins are already capable of it will ensure more time to focus on strengthening said barriers.

“Very good.”  Making a full circle around them, he stops before Damocles.  “Are you sure of your barrier?”  Damocles grins and nods, rumbling seemingly in challenge.  “Enough to test it?” Arcanus asks as he lifts the faux pistol into the boy’s sight.

When he receives yet another rumbling growl, Arcanus lifts the pistol and fires.  There is much that can be said of Damocles not wincing at the sight of the barrel of a gun, harmless or not.  That only seems, however, to emphasize the complete surprise at the foam, round ‘bullet’ bounces off the center of his forehead plate, completely unaffected by the barrier around him.  Blinking in stunned silence, mouth and mandibles hanging open, Damocles’ vocals stop completely as he slowly looks down at the foam between his feet.

“Barriers are more than manifesting energy in an outward form,” Arcanus explains as he moves to a snickering Cassia and does the same to her, the projectile bouncing off her own forehead.  She yelps and he shakes his head with a reprimanding click to his vocals.  “Your amusement in his attempt is unnecessary.”  He turns from them and walks into the clearing.  “Let us have a demonstration.”  Crossing his hands behind his back, he lifts his chin and hums.  “I will maintain a weaker barrier and I want you both to attempt to break it.”

Damocles grins as his sister bends down to pick up the two foam pieces.  “Then will we get to shoot you?”

“We don’t have guns.”  Cassia looks to her brother, hand closing around the two foam cylinders.

Arcanus chuckles softly, finding himself once again amused by the innocent minds they possess in their youth, even if he’d never once accept it from any one else.  Like stone being worn smooth after many decades under the flow of water, he has found that this new life has softened him from the many forms of affection he’s been lucky enough to be given.

Looking at the two as they seem to be conspiring with hushed tones and glances his way, Arcanus clears his throat to get their attention.  Once they do, he concedes, “If you can manage to break through my barrier, then I will hand you my weapon and you can ‘shoot’ me.”

Where Damocles seems to become rejuvenated by such a simple reward at the end of this lesson, his sister seems suspicious.  Perhaps, with the two of them working together in life, the twins will be more unstoppable than their parents ever were.  With Cassia’s forgiving nature and brilliant mind and Damocles’ emotional control and brute power, the two will be able to do what none of the Normandy family could do combined.

Whatever Cassia seems to be thinking, Damocles will hear none of it as he starts to run towards Arcanus.  His body engulfs with a violet, roaring flame as the boy charges his approach with his already powerful for his age biotics.  It seems that, in little time, the boy will be strong enough for practice and a real, fully protected opponent.  Arcanus is sure that any lesser man or woman would be questioning their survival when in the boy’s path.

Today, however, is not one of the days for Arcanus to be worried as Damocles rams into his barrier without breaking through.  The force against the barrier does slow him down enough that he doesn’t ricochet off of Arcanus’ barrier and cause greater damage, but it does completely stop him in his tracks and knocks him into a sit on the ground with a grunt.  Surprise flashes over his face, but it’s soon replaced by frustration.

He does get more aggravated when Arcanus lifts his pistol and nonchalantly fires another soft projectile off of Damocles’ forehead.  The boy growls just as the foam lands in his lap and Arcanus is sure he’s moments away from pouting, but the twins are at an age where their outward expressions are subdued compared to when they were still too young to begin this kind of training.

“Knuckle?”  Cassia steps beside her brother and looks up at Arcanus.  “What happens if we get through?  Wouldn’t you still shoot us because we don’t know how to make our own barrier yet?”

Arcanus lowers the pistol to his hip and looks down to her, humming in consideration.  “I will not punish you for accomplishing the task I give, but you are right.  Even if you manage to break through an enemy’s barrier, you will still be unprotected.”  He won’t admit that, in this instance, he hadn’t thought the issue would need to be taught today, but Cassia has always been observant.

Looking up towards the house, Arcanus sees Elyse step out onto the porch with a smile and wave.  He can’t hold the slight purr in his chest as he holsters his weapon and glances to the twins.  “Lesson is complete for now.”  He offers a hand for Damocles to climb to his feet.  “We will continue this after you have eaten to replenish your energy.”

The twins are energized by the prospect and they run towards the house, dropping pieces of their makeshift armor as they go.  Arcanus calls out for them to pick up their mess, but he goes unheard as Elyse crouches down to receive crushing hugs before the twins disappear into the house.

As he approaches, Elyse grins and cocks a hip against the porch railing.  “Beating up on my poor babies, I see.”

“I am not ‘beating up on’ them,” he admonishes as he steps close to her and ducks his head when she lifts onto her toes to give him a human kiss.  He cups her elbows to help her balance as he ghosts a mandible against her cheek just a moment before standing straight.  “Learning to control their biotics is necessary.”

“Uh huh.  Got to be prepared for a battle to break out in the schoolyard.”  One corner of her lips quirk.  “Just… go easy on them, okay?”

Arcanus hums and exhales a puff of breath.  “I am not hurting them.”  She gives him an incredulous look and crosses her arms, jerking her chin towards his hip.  “The pistol is only loaded with harmless foam projectiles.  The only injury they can acquire would come from a projectile coming into contact with their eyes.”  When her eyes widen in shock, he knows he’s said something wrong and flicks his mandibles.  “I would never target their eyes, Elyse.”

“You better not!  Could you imagine what Jane and Garrus would do?”  She laughs, but it sounds a bit drained as if she were truly imagining that ever being a possibility.  Arcanus hopes she is only being overly protective and not actually questioning his aim.  “They’d tan our hides.”

“There is no need to fear whatever that is.  You know my aim is true.”

Elyse snorts and smiles, soon chuckling.  “Of course it is.”  She lays a hand on his arm, sliding it down to take his hand and squeezes.  “I trust you, but you know me.  I can’t help but worry-”

“That you are doing something wrong in your duty to help raise them,” he finishes for her, exasperated that she thinks so low of herself.  “That possibility is unfounded, Elyse.  You are something for the twins that neither their parents nor myself can be.”  He rumbles and cups her cheek, tilting his head to look as he looks down to her.  “You accomplish that which I am unable to.”

Her voice is tender as she leans into his palm.  “You give yourself too little credit.  They love you.”

“Spirits know why-”

“ _ And _ I know the perfect way to show you.”  Grinning, she lays her hand in the crook of his elbow and leads him into the house.  “Jane and Garrus invited us to dinner tonight.  And who am I to deny Jane’s amazing cooking?”

“Why did I not know of this?”

“Because you’d try to find an excuse not to go.”  She chuckles and he hums, not openly denying her.  He has no problem with the Vakarians, but sometimes he finds their large gatherings tiring.  “And don’t worry, it’s just us and them.”  The idea of just the six of them confuses him and he stops to look down at her, simply rumbling in question.  Elyse shrugs and smiles.  “I guess they like us more.”  Nudging a piece of one of the twin’s weighted suit aside with her foot, she adds, “Plus, I don’t have to cook.  I love not having to cook.  Well,  _ attempt  _ to cook.”

“I enjoy your cooking.”

She scoffs and makes an exaggerated face of disbelief.  “Please… I can make sandwiches and that’s about it.”

“That is a falsehood.  You can make plenty of meals.”

“Name one,” she says with a smirk and brow over her intact eye raised.  

He hums, trying to think up the names of the human food she seems so skilled at.  He can’t taste them, but the twins tend to give them high praise.  Admittedly, Elyse needs some improvement in terms of turian cuisine.  Apparently, his silence speaks enough for Elyse to snort and laugh.

“Speechless, I see!”  She smiles, the gesture so tender Arcanus believes he can even feel the warmth of the expression.  He sees it often on her features when she is around her proclaimed family, even if none of them are genetically related.  It never fails to make him purr a sound he has used too infrequently in his life.  

“Alright, Elyse.”  Lowering his voice and flicking a small smile, Arcanus gives in.  “We will join them in dinner tonight,” he stops when she makes a soft sound of excitement before continuing, “but I will continue the twin’s biotic training before we must attend.”


	20. Aeson 9/2194

Today included more of the same for Damocles, judgemental stares and underhanded whispers.

No matter the words he manages to hear from the deafer species’ children who were oblivious to the volume of their voices, he stays silent and swallows his out retorts for Cassia.  The look of sadness in her eyes when she overhears is all he needs to know he must be strong, for her sake more than his own.

He would do anything for her and go to the end of the universe to protect her.  They may be twins, but he’s still her bigger brother, still older by eight minutes, and that means he is responsible for her happiness in a way their mom and dad just can’t be.  It just isn’t the same coming from them as it is coming from the connection he and his sister have being twins.

Sighing as he follows his sister, Gelta, and their cousin, Alexia, out of EDI’s school and into the yard to wait for Aunt Miranda and Gelta’s dad or brother to show, Damocles makes for his usual spot on the large rock overlooking the others.  It’s up there that he can be alone and truly feel the better of all the children, if only for a few moments.  On the rock, Damocles is not the ‘freak’ or the ‘weirdo’.  

Up there, he’s just… Damocles.

He is about to climb up onto his sun-baked perch when he hears the raucous shouts of the reigning group of interspecies bullies.  They’re older than Damocles - and bigger thanks to his annoyingly short stature - and the group of tyrants target him and Cassia often, only kept from crossing his line between tolerance his dad drilled into him and a violent response by the krogan Srack.  Damocles still remembers when he made the krogan cry to his mother and takes great joy in finally being able to vent his frustration, even if it ended with tiring fight training with his own dad.  Having to wake up early to spar was well worth his pride in protecting his sister.

Hearing the sounds of their jeers grow, Damocles jumps down from his rock to see what’s the matter.  He knows he isn’t supposed to ‘look for a fight’, but he won’t just sit by and let the assholes be mean to another kid.  Besides, he knows he can beat any of them up without even trying.  

‘Don’t start fights, but always finish them,’ his dad always says.

With a glance to make sure his sister and her friends stay out of it and to let him handle it, he sees Cassia flare her mandibles before giving a soft nod.  She can fight almost as well as he can, but that doesn’t mean he wants her to get involved just in case one of the bullies manages to hit her.  He’d feel horrible to see her get hurt - or, worse, cry - because he sees that enough with things he can’t make stop.

There is a large crowd of kids gathered to watch, and it makes Damocles even madder that they’d just stand by and not be brave enough to stand up for someone getting hurt.  He’s already pissed off by the useless kids as he pushes through them to get to the front, not caring if he’s more forceful than necessary, but he starts to snarl in anger when he sees who’s being bullied.  The bullies are like varren gathered around his younger cousin, Aeson Sidonis, and not a single, damn kid is standing up for him.

“You know why your dad is deformed?”  One of the turians, seemingly the one who started this because he’s the only one circling, growls and smirks in a way that make Damocles’ plates itch.  He already knows what the kid’s talking about, Uncle Lantar's half-missing mandibles, but the boy - Uriet, Damocles vaguely remembers - from a higher grade doesn’t have the right to bully Aeson for it.  

Not when it’s none of his damn business.

“It’s because he’s a traitor,” one of the other turians, a female who brings up the name Floretta in Damocles’ mind, shouts out with an evil grin.  

“No,” Uriet corrects, expression gaining an uncomfortable amount of joy, “A  _ coward _ .”  He laughs and turns to the others of his gang.  “And I bet,” he starts, growling as he turns to Aeson, “he pissed himself just as you’re going to.”

“Stop it.”  Aeson, though trilling in distress, balls his fist, but he can’t seem to have the courage to lift his eyes to the asshole bullies.  Damocles can tell that this insulting started long before he came out into the yard to hear and he pulls his mandibles in tightly for his friend - his  _ family _ .  When the bullies only yell out more insults, their vocals pitched in mean teasing, Aeson lifts his head, eyes closed tightly, and screams, “ _ Stop it! _ ”

All laughs and shouts stop and Uriet stares down to the five year old Aeson.  “Or what?  You’ll cry just like your daddy?”  

At the responding keen from his friend, Damocles storms through the ring of Uriet’s gang creating a circle around the stupid show.  The older boy doesn’t even manage to call Aeson and his family by a word even Damocles’ mom would find offensive before he’s stops and looks to Damocles, mouth open to speak.  

He doesn’t get that far as Damocles pulls his shoulders and head back, then slams it against Uriet’s face, hearing a satisfying crack as his forehead makes contact.  Uriet hisses as he reels back and clamps his hands over his nose that now rains blood over his mouth and chin.  He snarls, but can’t speak before Damocles growls and stands between the older boy and Aeson.

“He told you to stop,” Damocles says with a warning rumble, squaring his shoulders.

“You fucking…”  Instead of continue in his stuffy voice, Uriet drops his hands and balls them into fists.  “You want to fight.  I’ll show you a fight, you fucking freak.”

Damocles merely growls, proving he isn’t afraid, and nudges Aeson back before lifting his own hands, curling his fingers slightly in order to give himself a shot at changing tactics according to Uriet’s attack.  He can either claw or punch, and he’s more than ready for Uriet to make the mistake.

“Hey, Uriet.”  Srack steps closer and lays a hand on the leader of the assholes’ shoulder.  “Just let it go.  The freak fights dirty.”  He scowls towards Damocles and the younger turian flicks his mandibles in a smirk of pride.  “And the little bastard has EDI on his side.”

Uriet is still for a few, very long moments, as he and Damocles lock eyes and stare each other down, neither of them blinking because it’d only show weakness.  Finally, the older turian lets out a long, threatening growl before lowering his hands.  “You’re lucky, freak of nature.”  As if to show he isn’t afraid - though Damocles knows he is after he broke the boy’s nose - Uriet walks forwards, bumps Damocles with his side, and walks away.

Damocles watches the prick and his group of assholes walk away from the school grounds and huffs as he feels his body begin to still from the anticipation.  Looking away from his approaching sister and her friends so he doesn’t have to hear Cassia telling him he was too rough - even though he knows she agrees with what he did - he turns and runs his eyes over Aeson to check for any sign that the bullies touched him.  If they did, then Damocles would have chased Uriet down and done more than break his nose.

“You okay?” he asks the younger boy, trembling slightly from the uncalled for teasing.  Aeson, still trembling slightly and chirping in distress, nods and sniffs as if trying to look unaffected to Damocles.  Humming, Damocles jerks a thumb over his shoulder towards his rock.  “Want to come sit with me while we wait for my sister’s friends to go home?”  

When the boy’s chirping stops and his eyes seem to grow clearer as he smiles, Damocles smiles back with a purr.  He tilts his head towards his spot before turning to lead the way, meeting Cassia halfway there.

“You did good,” is all she says as she smiles and purrs.  Damocles flutters his mandibles at it, always happy when Cassia agrees with him even when they aren’t supposed to fight with the other kids.  Like always, she understands as she turns her smile to Aeson before she and her friends join in on the walk to Damocles’ rock.

The climb is a bit difficult for Aeson because the rock is pretty tall compared to the old one Damocles used to sit on when he was little like other boy, but Damocles helps Aeson up by pushing his butt up.  He hears the soft scratches of talons on the rock’s surface, but soon the weight on his hands lessens as Aeson manages to finally pull himself up.  Once he gets up, Damocles climbs the rock much easier and plops down beside Aeson as he looks out over the school yard and beach beyond.

“Cool, huh?” 

Aeson hums in a ‘yes’ before Damocles sees him glance over.  “Thank you,” he says, smiling and purring softly.

Damocles shrugs, but grins back.  “Don’t worry.  I have your back.  Anyone bothers you, you come to me,” he confirms as he points to himself.  “No one is allowed to make fun of you just because of what your dad did a long time ago.”

“But....”  Aeson drops his head.  “The scarring-”

“Doesn’t mean a damn thing.”  Damocles growls at the bullies making Aeson so upset.  “They’re just assholes.  My dad has scars too.”  He points to his own face and the ugly looking scar down his left side.  “I have ‘em too.  See?”

“But they don’t mean nothin’.”  Aeson still looks at Damocles’ face before his mandibles flare as if he’s thinking to himself.  “My daddy’s does.”

Damocles just shakes his head, rumbling in disgust for the other kids.  “What do they know?”  He smirks and looks to his friend.  “I’ll tell you something.  Srack?  That krogan kid?”  When he gets a nod in response, he continues.  “I punched him so hard he went crying to his mommy and daddy.”  Aeson giggles and flutters his mandibles.  “And I bet he only hangs out with Uriet and the others because they think being in a group makes them all tough when they’re really just scared little bitches.”  When Aeson gives him a confused look, he explains, “They’re scaredy cats.”

“Oh!”  Aeson grins and laughs, nodding in agreement.  “They are!”

Chuckling, Damocles adds, “And they only bully people because they don’t want anyone to know it’s because they’re trying to hide that they’re more stupid instead.”  A thought comes to mind of his own times being bullied and growls.  “And they’re more ugly than anything and anybody.   _ They’re  _ the freaks.”

It takes a moment before Damocles snaps out of it and he blinks his eyes to fight away the fuzziness.  Aeson doesn’t deserve to see him mad, so he hides it away and rumbles to his friend.  “If anyone bothers you, you tell me.  I’ll take care of it.” 

It might not be much or end up really stopping the others from being assholes, but it makes Damocles feel better when Aeson purrs and nods with a warm smile.  After all, if Damocles already looks after his sister and her friends, so why not his fake cousin?  He will happily be the protector of the group and fight anyone who tries to hurt his fake family just like his mom and dad would.


	21. Molting 6/2195

Surprisingly, Jane wakes later than normal in the morning with not a single sound to be heard from the twins tearing down the house.  She has no idea what made the planets align to bring about such a unbelievable situation, but she can’t find any reason to complain to getting to wake by her own accord.  Well, her one complaint might involve the fact that, when she rolls onto her belly and reaches out to her bed partner, her hand merely flops onto the vacant side of the bed.

“Just fan-fucking-tastic,” she mumbles into her pillow before cracking an eye open and finding a giant spot of missing turian on her mate’s side of the bed.  She groans at the chill from where he left the blankets pulled down and presses her face completely into the pillow, giving herself a moment to pout into the soft cloth before pushing herself up to start the day.  

_ Of  _ **_course_ ** _ he’d be up.  How else would the kids be under control? _

She huffs a laugh at a memory of when the twins were still in their most destructive phases and too much for a single parent to handle, despite their best efforts - and a bit of praying to whatever deity around that would listen.  On one occasion, Garrus had insisted she lay down and try to rest, but it only ended in her waking up to the sound of the shelves in their pantry crashing down and Garrus dressed in clothes that looked like the victims of a rabid varren attack.  How either of those outrageous - and, up until that point, unimagined - messes happened is still a mystery to even the man awake and there for it all, but Jane’s own eyes weren’t lying.

Jane sighs and she raises her arms up, twisting until her shoulders pop and stretching her back until she hears the dull snap of her spine.  Something about that action always holds a finality that the - sometimes - rest that her body needs.  Her dreams may still be tumultuous and full of horrors, but she has Garrus for that and she can’t expect  _ everything  _ to be healed after the hell they all went through during war.  She can push away bad thoughts, but she wouldn’t be able to truly function if her body decided to throw in the towel.  

Plus, that’d be an awfully dull life sitting around and fermenting.  Give her a fight - whether with guns or against to unruly nightmare children - any day.

Standing and grabbing for her panties, she stumbles to put them on thanks to the last vestiges of sleep still clinging to her.  Luckily, she doesn’t make a fool of herself by greeting the morning with a wonderful meeting of face and floor, managing to pull them up with a final snap of the elastic around her hips.  Next is a tank - too lazy to grab a shirt needing a bra and extra effort before her morning cup of tea - and the pair of loose pants she threw haphazardly at their desk in a failed attempt to land it in the clothes hamper.  She didn’t happen to knock over all of Garrus’ things, but his pristine organization might need some repair.

The desk could be in worse condition, she considers as she shrugs and heads into the bathroom to try and control her mane and brush her teeth.  Again, any real work on taming her hair will have to wait until she’s done with her tea, so she just uses her fingers to comb through the worst of it before wrapping a band loosely around it.  It’s not like her family would really notice her rat’s nest needs work.  Well, maybe Cassia would with all her practice on her myriad of dolls, but Jane could care less.  Her twins have seen their mother’s morning face enough to no longer be scared shitless.  With a rinse of her mouth and flick of brush to tap off the water, she shuts off the sink and heads out. 

It’s shocking to find the living room empty and vidscreen silent of any weird show the twins have found to confuse their parents with.  She hasn’t really checked the time yet, so it’s safe to assume that the two are still eating whatever their father has managed to make without - as the lack of smoke would indicate - burning to an unrecognizable crisp.  Shocking, to say the least, but it’s either that or the twins are eating another bowl of that disgusting, overly sugary cereal they’ve loved since they could demand it.  She isn’t all that surprised to find the twins at the table with bowls of that very thing set out before them.  Garrus isn’t that great of a cook, so perhaps it’s for the best that he give them something familiar and lacking any possibility of tasting like charcoal.

She walks up to where Garrus stands at the counter, pouring himself a bowl of that shit that she can’t believe he likes.  With his back to her, he doesn’t see her coming, but she’s sure he hears her as he always does, because she’s able to wrap her arms around his waist without startling that panicky thing left deep in the dark recesses of him thanks to all the shit they’ve seen and lived through.  Though not exactly the same for turians as humans, PTSD can still be a bitch.  They both feel that festering wound, live in companionship in the wastes it often leaves behind.

She hums as she lays her cheek against his clothed back, nuzzling him and feeling his rumbling chuckle vibrate against her.  In response, she squeezes him and smiles.  “I can’t believe you can eat that shit,” she says softly, devoid of any real disgust as she relaxes her arms enough to splay her hands across the plates resting just above his sensitive waist.

“It’s good.”  She snorts at his defense and he lays a hand over hers.  “And, besides, some of what you eat looks like it crawled out of something at some point.”

Chuckling, she looks towards the twins with every intention to bring them in at her defense of her strange food, but quiets as she sees them.  Their bowls are almost entirely untouched - which is so, frighteningly unlike them - and Cassia merely pushes the soggy lumps of cereal around in her bowl as Damocles sits with head down and arms limp at his sides.  It’s a sobering sight as Jane drops her hands from Garrus, only to tug his shirt as she frowns.

“What’s wrong?” she asks him softly, unable to look away from the horror of seeing two imposters where her lively, rambunctious children should be.  “Did something happen?”

Her mate makes a curious noise as he turns.  “Hm?  Oh, the twins?”  She nods and finally breaks away to look up to him, hoping to be able to tell the severity of the situation from his own expression.  Instead of the worry she expects, he gives her a tenuous smile and shrugs.  “It’s a normal thing for their age.  They’ll just be under the weather, as you say.”

“So… they’re sick?”

“Well, not really.”  He hums and looks away, squinting as if in thought.  “They feel bad, but they aren’t sick.”  He shrugs again and Jane starts to get annoyed with just how nonchalantly he’s explaining.  “They’re just at  _ that  _ age.”

“‘That age’?”

Garrus snorts and chuckles, though not too loud for the twins to hear.  “Puberty?  You know, becoming adults?”

Jane raises a brow, secretly cursing for not  _ actually  _ looking at the information on turian puberty because she had every intention to just wing it like she does everything else or rely on Garrus’ knowledge.  “And, what, they’ll be like this until they’re adults.”  She crosses her arms.  “Seems highly unlikely.”

“Well, no.  They’ll just feel bad for about a week every so often as they grow in spurts instead of gradually like they’ve been doing.”  He smiles and leans down to press his forehead to hers.  “I’m sure they’d appreciate the worry, but let’s not make too big a deal?  It isn’t really fun to go through.”  Leaning up, he looks over to them and rumbles.  “At least mine wasn’t too pleasant.”  

Jane follows his eyes and sighs, leaning her hip on the counter and crossing her arms.  “What can I do to help?”  She narrows her eyes.  “And if you tell me to read those pamphlets Dr Solus gave us on this, I’m going to do some very creative things with that cereal you love so much.”

He laughs and, as if she can’t see, pushes the bowl further down the counter and out of her reach.  “I was going to, but then I thought about just how much attention you’d give to them-”

“None.”

“Exactly,” he agrees with a grin and mirrors her posture before jerking his chin towards the nearest stairs.  “How about you grab some fresh clothes?  I took them out to the water to try and ease some of the aches.”

Calling on her very lackluster knowledge of anything medical, she remembers the term ‘saline’ as salt water hospitals and medics use all the time for pretty much anything.  Other than the fact that it’s basically salt water, she can’t really come up with anything else about it, but figures Garrus knows what the hell he’s talking about.  So long as they aren’t drinking it, she trusts him when he says it’ll help them feel even a tiny bit better.

“Yeah, sure,” she responds, nodding and standing up.  “Oh, wait.”  Stopping on her way to her task, she motions a thumb towards the living room and looks to the kids.  “How about you two lay down for today and just watch vids all day?”  When they look to her, a question in their eyes, she smiles and nods.  “No practice, training, or school today.  Dad and I’ll pamper you all day.”

That actually manages to get a bit of joy out of them and she can swear she hears at least one chirp come from their direction.  She’ll take whatever reaction they might have given, but grins at the fact that they find her plans not only acceptable, but something to let a glimmer of happiness shine through the body aches.  She may not know how shitty they feel today, but she can draw on her own days of feeling like hell warmed over.  It’s not good memories, but she might have some ideas to distract from the pain.

If she could make any of the  same sounds her family could, she'd be purring with joy as she smiles warmly.  “Alright.  That's what we'll do.  I'll bring pillows and blankets down too.”  

With a curt nod to her mate and given a matching signal of agreement back in his warm grin, Jane makes her way up the stairs to the twin’s rooms.  Cassia's was first on the list as Jane stepped in and found her bed surprisingly unmade.  Their daughter takes after their dad in that she is very particular about the setup of her space, but she must really be in the pits if she didn't at least pull her blanket back up over her pillows.  On the other hand, leaving the bed messy makes it easier for Jane to pull off the blanket and grab a pillow to use downstairs.

Picking up the book laying open against the second pillow, Jane folds over the page to keep Cassia’s spot before setting it down on the enormous pile of books on her daughter’s nightstand.  She isn’t all that surprised to know Cassia probably fell asleep reading again because it’s not often one sees the girl without some kind of book in hand, whether downloaded onto a datapad or as a physical copy.  Maybe, when she’s feeling a bit better, she’ll want to pick back up where she left off on this one.  Taking that into consideration, Jane tucks the book under her arm to save her or anyone else the trip upstairs in case that change for the better happens later in the day.

She pats the blanket into a more manageable pile on top of the pillow before wedging them under her opposite arm and heading out into the hall that stretches across to Damocles’ bedroom.  There is a banister where the walkway looks out over the open dining and living rooms, and she spots Garrus’ large shadow cross the far end of the floor as he moves about the kitchen.  She then looks over the edge of the banister to make sure nothing too valuable is below before lifting the blanket and pillow over and dropping it, seeing no reason to walk all the way down the steps to drop them off only to have to go back up and repeat the same action multiple times to get everything she needs.

There’s a soft thump as everything lands and Garrus must have heard because Jane sees him walk into the dining room to investigate.  Quirking a brow plate, he looks up at her and she greets him with a grin.  “Pretty smart, right?”  He snorts and sets his bowl down on the dining table before heading over.  “Your breakfast is going to get soggy,” she says with a smirk and leans on the banister.  “What?  The floor’s clean.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to give the twins this idea.”  He chuckles as he grabs both items in one hand and looks up to her.  “Just don’t drop anything heavier than blankets and pillows?  Or at least give me a heads up first.”

She gives him a scoff of mock insult in answer before chuckling and holding the book over the railing in threat.  Her mate obviously isn’t convinced as he stands his ground and shakes his head, giving her a moment to change her mind before moving to the couch to deposit his haul. 

“You should really fear me,” she jokes as she sets the book at the tops of the stairs to pick up on her way down.  “I don’t usually joke around with things.”

She hears a snort.  “Since when?”

Chuckling, she doesn’t hear if he has anything else to say before she heads into Cassia’s room to find some comfortable clothes.  She settles for an oversized shirt from Garrus that had become too small for him after his most recent change in training alongside Damocles.  It seems to be one of Cassia’s favorites by the wear and tear of it in some places in the form of some paint spots and small holes from any number of countless times their daughter uses it to play around the house.  Jane pairs it with a pair of loose shorts before heading back out and setting them beside the book.  Next is Damocles’ room that never ceases to look like the victim of a rampaging army of yahg, but, luckily for them all, lacks the smell Jane once heard of human boys his age.

_ One good thing about turian children. _

She can’t push the door past just enough space to squeeze through thanks to some blockage refusing to budge under her strength, but manages to get in none too gracefully as she stumbles over a discarded pile of clothes.  “Jesus christ, kid,” she says to herself as she looks around the room with a sigh.  “We’re going to need to train you to keep your room clean past twenty-four hours.”

Heading to the closet first, Jane grabs a pair of loose pants and tosses them out into the hall to free her hands for the trek to Damocles’ bed.  She can’t believe her mate would let this place get this bad without having an aneurysm, but figures he’s probably given up long ago on ever getting their son to tame his wild bedroom mess.  At least, she figures, Damocles keeps his most valuable possessions - his training rifle and weighted, faux armor - well kept and in the small alcove that miraculously appears clean like a single beacon in a massive storm.

The contrast actually makes Jane laugh softly as she steps lightly down the small path in the mess to his bed.  She once thought - and was constantly reminded of - her own disorganization was bad, but Damocles definitely has her beat.  Where she can find what she needs in her personal mess, she doubts Damocles would even  _ survive  _ an exploration of the shit pile in his room.

“Definitely need to clean this when he feels better.”  Pushing aside a pile of toys that seem to be taken apart off his blankets and to the far edge of his bed, she grabs the pillow in one hand and blanket in the other with every intention to just get the hell out of this hell before something jumps out of the mess.  Feet hidden by the dragging blanket, Jane trips over something and curses when she hears a snap.  “Well, that’s definitely broken.”

She leaves that for another day and steps out into the hallway, ready to toss this bundle over the railing.  After she drops the pillow and shifts to lift up the blanket, however, something falls out of the folds of it and lands on the ground at her feet.  Initially, she ignores it and simply drops the blanket down to Garrus waiting below, but a glance at it catches her attention.

She had, at first, expected a piece of clothing by the lack of clatter when it fell that would tell her of something more solid, but what she finds is something she can’t quite place.  It’s loose and moves like fabric, but it isn’t shaped like any sort of clothing or bedding.  More like a tattered piece of something bigger, it’s light when Jane picks it up to get a better look.

“Hey, Garrus?” she calls, holding the piece up to see the light partially filter through this strange fabric that feels more like fine sandpaper than cloth.  “Do you know what this is?”

As she holds it over the banister for him to see, she hears him hum before looking at it, sure to easily explain it without even seeing what she holds like he’s some damn psychic.  He flattens out the blankets and pillow onto the opposite couch before looking up.  It’s then that his expression changes from curious to fluttering mandibles and a slack jawed, very elegant, ‘uh…’.

“Uh?”  Jane lifts a brow and looks at the thing in her hand, turning it around and tilting her head at the small spattering of the occasional blemish and nick in its smoothness.  “It looks kinda weird.  You know like when I peel that weird quarian vegetable?  The one that looks like corn?”

Garrus rumbles and scratches his scarred mandible, slowly jerking the other in his ‘thinking face’.  “Well, I guess I could see that relation.”  He looks down as the twins pass and speaks to them.  “As bad as you two feel, let’s remember to clean up your plates when they peel off.”

Jane immediately stills, not sure she just heard right.  “I’m sorry.  What?”  She looks away from the thing in her hand that’s starting to sound a lot less like a piece of fabric.  “I found this in Damocles’ bed.”

Damocles looks from the offending object to his father, but Garrus shakes his head softly.  “That’s on me.  Just clean them up from now on.”  Receiving a nod in return from both children, Garrus looks back up to Jane leaning over the second floor railing.  “Just how much did you read up on turian puberty?”

“Would you believe it if I said all of it?”

“From that look on your face?  No,” he responds with a chuckle and smile, motioning the object with his hand.  “That’s a molted plate.  You know, the outer layer of a plate that’s peeled off because it’s been replaced with newer, living plate?”

It’s a slow progression as the idea takes root in her mind as something actually natural for a sapient species capable of space flight, living her uterus for a short period of time in the past, and constantly spending a good portion of time locked in her cunt  _ at least  _ once a day.  “Wait…”  Just to be sure, she goes over what he said in her head.  “So you mean turians shed their plates like snakes and lizards?”

“If reptiles on earth are like those on Palaven, then yes.”

“Gross,” is all she can really say as she moves from holding the dead plate from her full hold to a simple grasp of finger and thumb. 

Garrus snorts from below her as the twins turn on the vidscreen to drown their parents out.  “And bleeding from your vagina without actually being injured isn’t?”

“Doesn’t count,” she retorts, dropping the piece with a shake of her hand.

“How does it not count?  This is as natural as that is for you.”  He chuckles as she throws him an incredulous look over the banister and he crosses his arms.  “How about humans shedding flakes of skin every moment of every day?  How is that not the same?”

“ _ Because _ , up until now, that’s what the twins were doing too, shedding small, tiny, invisible flakes of plate.”  She hears a muffle of some response.  “What?”

“Nothing.”  The mock innocence doesn’t fool her, but she’ll get down to it when she gets back downstairs.  “I’ll explain once you get down here.” 

Grabbing the shed plate and tossing it in the trash just within Damocles’ door, Jane collects the clothes and book from the top of the stairs and climbs down.  She’s joined by Garrus as he drops off his bowl in the sink after rinsing it and he takes the clothes from her on their way into the living room.

“Why don’t you two get into something softer and looser than what you’re wearing,” he offers as he separates Damocles’ from Cassia’s clothes.  “You can use our room to change.”  He jerks a chin towards the Master bedroom.  “We’ll be out here.”

“Okay,” Cassia says softly, her discomfort and overall crummy mood obvious as she hefts herself up and drags her feet into the bedroom.  Damocles merely grunts as he follows with his own clothes in hand.

“Their clothes are bond to still have some salt water in them.  This’ll feel better,” Garrus explains as Jane watches her children shamble into the other room.  “Now,” he starts, getting her attention.  

When she looks up, he’s smirking, and she scowls.  “Don’t act so smug.  It’s still not the same.”

Chuckling, he shakes his head and leans a hip on the back of the couch at his side.  “Maybe not.  Maybe this is much more understandable for a species.”  She narrows her eyes and he laughs.

“Why don’t you actually explain some of this so I’m not flying blind here?  Just how much of that shit is going to come off them?”

“Well, all of their plates need to harden, so all of them will molt.”  He stops when she drops her mouth and rumbles.  “What?  You think it’s really going to be easy to grow when their plates are hard?”

“They don’t do that now!”  She waves a hand towards the bedroom.  “Why does it have to start peeling off in sheets  _ now _ ?”

“Because their plates weren’t hardened like they will be as adults?”  When she doesn’t show any sign of understanding, he sighs.  “It’s puberty, Jane.  Hormones and stuff, you know?  I don’t know the exact science, just that their plates are getting hard like mine, so they can’t just flake away gradually as they grow like before.”

She snorts, trying to imagine what the end result of this whole molting fiasco will look like and having absolutely zero clue about her how her husband became an adult male.  This situation is proving to show her just how little she still knows about turians, but, then again, she’s sure Garrus knows just as little about humans.  Only thing is that she looks bad because her kids just so happen to be going through this type of puberty while Garrus will never have to pull on his human knowledge anytime soon.  She’s at a disadvantage and definitely showing it.

“Okay.  So how many of these damn things-”

“Molts.”

“ _ Molts _ do they have?  You can’t just tell me they wake up tomorrow and are as tall as you,” she says, crossing her arms and lifting a brow.

“Well, no.  That’d be horrifically painful to grow that fast.”  He hums and looks at the ground between them.  “I can’t quite remember how many I had, but it’s at least once a year depending on their final height.”

Jane glances over towards the bedroom, considering how short the two are for their ages right now.  “I sure hope they sprout up like fucking beanstalks, because I sure as hell don’t want them as short as me.”  When she looks back to him to get any kind of reassurance, she sees the dumbfounded look on his face and exhales an amused breath as some tension eases.  “It means they’ll grow really tall, really fast.  It’s a fantasy story about a plant that grows into the sky overnight.  Hence the saying.”

“Oh.”  Instead of most likely questioning humans and their weird sayings for the umptenth time, he smiles and purrs.  “You know, I was pretty short for my age for a while there.”  She finds it hard for her over seven foot tall turian husband to have ever been considered ‘small’ and chuckles.  “What?  It’s true.  I was shorter than my classmates until I hit my final growth spurt at fourteen.”  He huffs and shakes his head once as he looks at the bedroom.  “I hope they grow faster than that.  It didn’t feel all that great.”

“I bet you felt like shit on hot concrete.”

He stops and wrinkles his nose plates.  “That’s the worst example.”

Chuckling, she shrugs.  “But it works, right?  You imagined something really bad, admit it.”  He doesn’t get to respond as the door opens and the twins trudge back to the couches, laying down with vocal groans and whines.  “Damn, you two look like hell warmed over,” she says as she heads over and kneels before Cassia as her couch is closest.  “Can I get you anything?”

“Can I have some water?”

“I’ll get it,” Garrus answers, standing straight from his lean against the couch.  “You want anything, son?”  Damocles shakes his head and Garrus leaves the room, calling back.  “I already contacted Dr Solus to see if he has any oil for the peeling.”

Jane isn’t sure who exactly he intends to answer, but she speaks back to him as she tucks their daughter’s blankets tighter around her.  “Okay?  Will that help with pain?”

Damocles and Cassia both look hopeful at that, but they only seem to sag in relief when their dad answers.  “A bit, yeah.  With some salt water soaks and the oil scrubs, the pain should ease back to a dull pain.  I’m sure I can also teach you how to massage the plates while they’re still soft, Jane.”  He returns with a bottle of water in hand and offers it to Cassia as Jane tucks in Damocles.  “With everything my mom taught me as a kid, we should be able to stave away nearly all the pain.”

“Good,” Jane agrees as she sits on the free end of Damocles’ couch and Garrus takes the same spot on Cassia’s couch.  “Now, what shall we watch?”


	22. Comics 12/2195

Damocles’ extended family hadn’t been able to all gather together in time for a big Normandy family Christmas, but it seemed like plans had been made to be together for a party to mark the new galactic year.  Apparently, humans celebrated it and, with so many of them being human, it just seemed the best way to have the entire family together around a large meal, entertainment, and reconnection with those spending their days across the galaxy and far from Virmire.  

Only problem with today being the eve of the new year was that there was absolutely nothing to do while every adult seemed wrapped up in some preparation or another.  That left the kids to entertain themselves, and Cassia did just that with all her friends and their cousins.  He was included, of course, but it all felt like being a part of  _ her  _ play, even when their relationships with their visiting cousins was all the same for them both.  

Instead, he waits for his true best friend to arrive with the last of the Normandy family still not present, Aeson Sidonis.  Sure that the two of them can figure out something better to do than whatever Cassia has planned to include all the other kids - and probably boring as a result - Damocles watches some of his aunts and uncles set up things they’ll do outside during the party, sometimes looking to the sea to watch the waves against the rocks and shores.

He hears the heavier footsteps of an adult on the wood deck as they come closer, their owner stopping to stand next to him.  He doesn’t really need to guess who it is because he next hears his uncle, James’, voice.

“Hey, loco.”  When Damocles looks over to him, the man grins and jerks his head towards the house.  “I got something to show you.  Couldn’t give it to you for Christmas, though.”

“You already sent something to me for Christmas,” Damocles responds with a confused rumble, remembering the new game system his uncle had sent to Virmire because he wouldn’t be able to arrive until after the holiday.

James snorts and half turns to the house, waving to follow.  “I don’t gotta have a reason to give you something.  You’ll like it.  Trust me.”

Shrugging because he isn’t really doing anything important right now, Damocles follows James into the house through the living room doors so they don’t get stuck among all the people in the kitchen preparing food.  There are still quite a few of their family in the living room helping his dad clean up the decorations from Christmas, but his uncle leads him over to uncle Joker were he sits on the couch with the better view of the vidscreen.  He’s yelling orders in that tone of voice meant more to tease than actually command, but stops when James and Damocles come over.

“Hope us adults aren’t interrupting your deep brooding,” he says with a smirk and drops the vidscreen remote on the table beside his end of the couch.  “Vega and I have something you just might like.”

“Hey!  I think  _ I _ was the one that thought of it.”  Uncle James crouches down and pulls out a box from under the same table, pushing it towards Damocles as he mutters something about Joker ‘taking all the glory’.

Joker chuckles and looks to Damocles, motioning himself with a hand.  “Yeah, and  _ I _ did the most important part of picking them out.”

“Picking what out?”  Unable to decide who to actually ask that, he looks between both uncles before dropping his eyes to the box in question.  Rumbling in question, he sits and pulls the slightly heavy box closer.  “What is it?”

“Well, open it and find out.  That’s the point of a surprise,” James answers with a chuckle of his own, dropping down on Damocles’ other side with a heavy ‘whoof’ of the cushions.

Damocles doesn’t even know his dad is paying any attention until he chides James for that.  “Don’t break my couch.”

“Oh, calm down, Scars.  If it don’t survive that, then it wasn’t a good couch-”

“Shut up and let him open it,” Joker interrupt with a slight hiss at both of them before Damocles feels a nudge at his side.  “Go on.  We’ll be waiting until next Christmas if they keep going at it.”

Nodding without looking up, Damocles runs his talon across the tape along the side of box’s top edge to slice it open.  The two sides are next before he can lift up the top like a lid and look inside.  “Magazines?”

Inside are magazines very unlike the ones his father gets, brightly colored with images of cartoon characters and big, bold wording like they have in the intros for every show instead of guns and armors.  The characters even look like some of the human ‘superhero’ cartoons, just with more crazy outfits than the ones he’s seen.  Picking some up, he catches names like ‘Batman’, ‘Superman’, ‘The Avengers’, and so many more.

James laughs as Joker makes a kind of squawk noise.  “ _ Magazines _ ?”  When Damocles looks up to him, he sees his uncle lean back against the couch with a sigh.  “Garrus, you fail as a dad.”

“Oh,” his father says from atop his ladder, stopping his passing down ornaments to aunt Tali to raise a brow at Joker, “I’m sorry.  I thought I just heard you, a man whose only knowledge of xeno anything comes from Fornax, blaming me for not knowing human things.”

Tali gasps and looks to Damocles, her eyes wide behind her face plate and ornament nearly falling out of her hands.  “Garrus!  You can’t just say that in front of your son!”

“Say what?”

“You know,” she whispers harshly, cupping a hand to the side of her mask’s speaker, “ _ Fornax _ .”

His dad snorts and chuckles.  “You know he can hear you, right?”  He taps his own head beside his aural canal.  “Turian hearing?”

“Dammit.  I keep forgetting after so long away.”  Wrapping the ornament maybe a bit rougher than necessary, she shakes her head.  “Still, you shouldn’t say that around Damocles.”

“Why not?  He  _ has  _ some.”  That actually makes her and both uncles make clear squawking noises and Damocles’ mandibles flutter as he clicks in amusement, his dad clearly thinking the same as he laughs.  “What?  You hide that kind of stuff?”

“Well,  _ yeah _ .  I mean, that’s what I’d do if I had a kid,” Joke says with a shake of his head and long exhale, staring right at Damocles’ dad.  “That’s just…  _ wrong _ .”

Dad shrugs and turns back to taking off ornaments from the tree.  “It’s strange that you try to act oblivious.  What good does it do?”

Either he doesn’t want an answer or Damocles’ uncle doesn’t want to explain the weirdness of that thinking.  Joker, instead, gives a final shake of his head before returning to the magazines that apparently aren’t magazines.  

“ _ Any _ way, those are comics,” he explains and reaches out to grab one off the top.  “Man, you got some really good ones.  The classics.”

Trilling in curiosity, Damocles ignores something obviously meant to be said to uncle James and picks up the next in the pile with a large human man in a black suit with a pointed mask and large, black cape.  He opens it and looks over it.  “But what  _ are  _ they if they aren’t magazines?”

“They’re comics.”  James picks up the third ‘comic’ and holds it up in a way that gets Damocles’ attention, pointing at the front page as he explains, “Also called ‘graphic novels’-”

“If you want to be  _ that guy _ ,” Joker says, not looking up from his comic in hand when Damocles glances to him.

At the explanation, Damocles closes the comic and frowns down at its vibrant cover.  “I think you should give these to Cassia.  She’s the one that likes novels, not me.”

“Ah, dammit.”  James sighs and, when Damocles looks up to him in confusion, he smiles softly.  “I didn’t mean it like that.  That’s just what they’re called because they still tell a story, just with images instead of making you imagine it.”  He lays a hand on Damocles’ shoulder and motions with his chin.  “Check it out.  You might like them.  They’re a lot like those shows you like.”

Damocles rumbles and looks over the three different comics laid out on their laps.  “Where do I start?”

Jerking forward, uncle Joker starts flipping through the comics in the stack before tugging one out.  “This,” he says and James, a grin on his face, grabs up all the comics already laid out.  “I  _ know  _ you’ll like this one.”

“Yeah.  That’s the one,” James agrees, dropping the others back in the box.

With the comic set in his lap, Damocles tilts his head with a hum as he considers the title.  “‘The X-Men’?”  Both uncles nod excitedly and he flicks his mandibles.  “What’s it about?”

“It’s about people outside of the norm.”  Joker seems more serious as he taps the comic.  “People call them ‘mutants’, but they turn out to be the ones saving everyone’s asses.”  

Damocles is sure his uncles keep talking, expecting him to hear them, but can’t stop looking at the image of blue and yellow clad heroes with all manner of superpowers fighting a figure in red with some sort of forcefield power.  Only one word from Joker rings in his ears, but it doesn’t carry the same weight of hatred and disgust that it normally does.

_ Mutant _ .

He knows there is no such thing as superheroes, that the real heroes don’t have magical powers and might not always win in the end, but the idea of turning a flaw into a strength?  It’s a power he wants, a way to be the  _ real  _ kind of hero like his parents are  _ despite  _ his nature, in spite of what everyone else thinks of him.  He wants to harness what makes him a freak and use it to show the galaxy just what this ‘abomination’ can do better than any of those bastards that think they were better than him.

“Thank you.”  He can tell he just interrupted whatever his uncles were saying as he looks up and sees their mouths still open.  “Thank you.  I think this one is already my favorite.”

James grins wide and barks a laugh.  “See!?” he calls over to Joker.  “What did I tell you?  I  _ knew  _ he’d love them!”

“Pa-lease,” Joker retorts, scoffing.  “I was the one that told you it was the X-Men he’d like.  You weren’t just going to give him any old comic.”

“The  _ classics _ , amigo.  Classics!”

Damocles goes to ignoring them bicker as he sees his dad stop what he’s doing and smile his way, giving a slight nod.  He purrs and smiles back before his dad returns to his work, leaving Damocles to dig through his magazines for more X-Men comics.  He has a plan to stay up all night and day reading every last one, but there’s something he has to do first.

He has to show Aeson.

Stuffing his arms full of comics, he stands.  “Thanks again!” he says quickly before rushing for the door, trying not to drop any of his precious cargo.

“Where’s he going?”  He hears the confusion in uncle James’ voice, but doesn’t pay any attention as he chooses not to bother with his shoes.

Reaching for the door, it surprises him by opening into his hand.  He steps back so as not to be hit and trills, peeking around the door to see his pop-pop and aunt Sol.  He smiles and chirps, but starts moving again, shimmying around them.  “Hi, pop-pop.  Hi, Sol,” he says as he wedges himself through them and hears them chirp and trill in confusion.  “Bye!”

“Now wait,” pop-pop calls, making Damocles skid to a stop at the top step of their porch.  “Where are you going?”

“Oh, dad.”  Sol chuckles and waves Damocles to keep going.  “It’s too early for ‘stern grandfather’ talk.”

“Sol!”  Uncle James shouts from inside and Damocles hears his aunt make a joyous purr, but doesn’t stick around for pop-pop to actually start in with questions.  He’d never get out once that happens and pop-pop can be pretty nosy at times.

The door shuts behind him just as Sol cries out for his uncle and Damocles hops down the last steps.  Running through the sand and onto the paved path, he heads down to the housing sector for the Sidonis house.  He’s lucky in that he doesn’t have to go too far into the area, and too close to other kids’ houses, to find it.  He’d much rather avoid any stops for bullies to get in his way, even if he’s not afraid and can easily kick their asses, so Aeson’s house being so close to his own really comes in handy.

When he turns onto the path for their street, Damocles sees uncle Lantar sweeping off his porch.  He looks up when Damocles gets close and smiles.  “Damocles, I didn’t think you’d be here.”  He huffs a laugh and rumbles in amusement.  “I assume your parents told you to come and make us hurry?  I told Aelia we can-”

“No,” Damocles interrupts, flicking his mandibles impatiently and wondering why everyone wants to talk when he has something very important to do.  “They didn’t tell me to come.”

“Oh.”  Surprised, Lantar steps over for Damocles to get to the door after he climbs the short stairs onto the porch.  He rumbles as Damocles opens the door himself.  “I think Aeson is in his room,” he adds just as Damocles shuts the door again, barely managing to say it all.

Luckily, aunt Aelia is in the kitchen and unable to stop him for needless talk too, so Damocles quickly takes the side hall and runs for the room second to the last.  The door is slightly cracked, but he knocks anyways and shifts impatiently for his friend to answer.

“Come on, come on,” he whispers, growling at the seconds that seem to drag on forever before the door opens.

“Damo?”  The six year old trills in surprise, but the sound stutters to a stop when he sees what Damocles holds as curiosity wins over confusion.  “What’re those?”

“They’re called comics.”  Damocles rumbles and jerks motions with a jerk of his head over his shoulder.  “Come on.  Let’s go read them!”

“Really?!”  Aeson grins and slams the console to the lights in his room and runs ahead, yelling across the house instead of approaching his mother.  “Momma!  Can I go with Damo?”  Not waiting for the answer, Aeson and Damocles run out of the house, the younger boy bumping into his dad.  He’d have fallen in a comical bounce off of his dad if not for Damocles close enough to keep him steady.  

“Dad!”  Aeson shouts even before he can return to stable footing, bouncing on his feet with flicks of his mandibles.  “Dad.  Dad.  Dad.”

“What?  What?  What?” uncle Lantar responds with a warm purr, laying a hand on Aeson’s head in order for him to still.

Aeson smiles up at his father, purring happily as he looks back to Damocles.  “Can I go with Damo so we can go read comics?”

Rumbling, Lantar nods once and addresses Damocles.  “Just be sure to remember to come home or your parents will kill me for being the last one to see you and I didn’t tell you so.”

Damocles grins and nods, knowing that his parents are planning to start their party once the last of their family has arrived.  That should be around sun down, so they have all of the rest of the day to hang out without having to be watched by the adults.  Besides, it’s not like they’d be able to read when it gets dark where he’s planning on taking them anyways.

“Okay,” he says before glancing to Aeson and chirping.  “Our rock?”  

Aeson’s face lights up and he jumps around his dad, waving for Damocles to keep up.  “Yeah!  Let’s go!”  

Though they have more than one favorite rock - the one in the school yard and another in a more quiet spot on the beach - they both know which one is  _ the one  _ today.  Racing to be the first to it, the two boys run down the paths connecting the living sector to the farm ones, ducking in and out of the workers and other people walking them.  Damocles can easily outrun the smaller turian, but there isn’t any fun in taking advantage of his bigger size and obvious training when it’s just them playing and having fun.  Besides, going too fast would probably make him lose his comics if they slipped out of his grasp.

Once the past the furthest of fields from their starting point, there is nothing but flat beaches where people play in the water and rest under the sun.  It’s already far from Damocles’ own house - his being in the most private area so it’s just his family around - but still not far enough.  There are still too many people around and the spot he and Aeson are heading to is even  _ more  _ secluded.  They’re going to a spot most people think is the bad part of the beach, too rocky to be of any use for relaxation and having fun.

Bordering the very tall cliff at the edge of the entire Wraith settlement lies a section of the beach made out of large rocks with a few small ponds spread throughout.  Closer to the ocean, the stones have been smoothened by the waves constantly crashing over them, and rougher ones lay farther where the water can’t reach.  It’s on the verge of these two very different kinds of rock that a large boulder stands tall, towering over the others and looking out into the sea.

_ This  _ is their rock.

Damocles makes it seem like they both arrive at the rock at the same place, but laughs when Aeson shouts in victory as he throws up his arms.  “I win!” Aeson yells, laughing at beating his bigger friend.  

Just for fun, Damocles hums in consideration.  “No, I think I beat you.”

“Nuh uh!”  The smaller boy grins and shoves Damocles before scrambling to climb the smaller rocks that create a sort of ladder up to their perch.  “I’ll show you I’m faster!”

Chirping happily and laughing, Damocles takes the comics into one hand tucked under his arm to follow.  Being bigger, he doesn’t yet need both of his hands.  He will closer to the top, but, like always, he will hand them to Aeson once he helps his friend up.  Soon, Aeson won’t need the help, but that’ll have to be when he gets a bit older and bigger.  For now, Damocles is okay with giving him a boost until he no longer needs the help and Aeson, for his credit, doesn’t get upset at needing the help.  That he accepts it makes Damocles feel more helpful than if Aeson were to pout every time.

In fact, once Aeson uses both arms to pull himself up onto the final stone he can reach, he turns to Damocles with a rumbling question for help as if he really needs to.  Damocles waves off the request and smiles, offering the comics.  “Here.  Take these up with you.”  With Aeson’s nod once the comics are exchanged, Damocles crouches and cups his hands to create a flat step with his palms.  “Ready.”

Trilling with his own grin, Aeson grasps the comics in one hands and uses the other to grip Damocles’ shoulder.  Using Damocles’ shoulder for leverage, Aeson hops onto the makeshift step and bounces on the opposite foot’s toes in preparation for the next step.  Sensing his readiness, Damocles moves fast to stand, jerk up his hands, and use a small push of biotics to lift his friend high enough that he literally falls down onto the top of the rock.  It makes Aeson laugh and chirp in joy every time.

Damocles waits, holding his breath - needlessly, in this case as Aeson’s head peeks over the edge.  “That was fun!”

Grinning, Damocles rumbles in pride and puffs out his chest.  “No better way to get up there.”  Aeson laughs softly and his head disappears as he most likely leans back to give Damocles room to climb up.

Stepping back to the opposite edge of his current rock, Damocles takes a running start and kicks off to gain the extra height needed to grab on the edge of the boulder.  He pulls himself up, wanting to hurry up and grow like his dad promises so he doesn’t have to jump anymore, and huffs as he sits.  He smiles to his friend before holding out a hand for his comics because he’s figured out that the numbers at the corner of each must make them go in a certain order.  He saw them in his quick overlook at all of them back at his house, so he isn’t completely sure, but he’s about to find out.

He thankfully doesn’t have to call uncle James and Joker for help when he sees all of the comics with a number on top like he suspected.  Trilling at his luck, he lays all on the ground between himself and Aeson except for the one marked with a large ‘First Issue’ and the one he had fell in love with at first sight.

“Who are they?”  Aeson points at the vibrantly clothed heroes before turning to Damocles.  “And who's that?” he adds as he points to the red character, obviously the villian.

“That's the X-Men.”  With Aeson leaning closer, Damocles opens to the first page.  

Immediately, the two are greeted with a colorful scene of all the characters flying onto the page with shouts of their names and show of power.  All rally around a hairless man in a wheelchair, called Professor Xavier, addressing him as ‘sir’ and obviously their leader.  Damocles thinks he must be the most powerful if he can lead a group of winged, laser shooting, half-animal, and ice wielding superheroes.   The others even tend to him, making him comfortable in his chair and fretting over him.

The two boys never realize how much time passes, how many comics they manage to read, until they start to unconsciously squint to better read in the dimming light.  At first, the reason for the lack of light slips their minds until Damocles growls in frustration and looks around to search for somewhere better lit.

“Shit,” he curses as he sees the sun setting on the horizon and alerting him to the fact that he and Aeson have little time to get home before they are officially ‘late’.  

He knows his parents will probably lecture him about not keeping track and not really punish him, but he doesn’t know what will happen to Aeson when he doesn’t arrive in time.  He doesn’t think that uncle Lanter and aunt Aelia would punish his friend for Damocles’ own mess up, but he still wants to make sure there isn’t a need to do so anyways.

Gathering up his comics, Damocles hands them to Aeson to take care of while he climbs down to catch the younger turian boy.  “Here.  We can make it if we hurry.”

He waits for his friend’s nod before crouching at the edge of the rock and swinging his legs over as he pushes off with his hand.  His landing is hard, but it’s not anything that he couldn’t save himself from getting hurt by because he knows how to keep his legs loose and free to move with his landing.  It still manages to make him grunt when he lands, but he quickly stands up and smiles to Aeson.

“Ready?” he asks and purrs when Aeson nods and moves to sit on the ledge of the rock, one hand gripping the comics to his chest as he braces with the other.  

Damocles waves his hands up in encouragement as Aeson flutters his mandibles with a soft smile in what Damocles is sure has to be excitement.  They’ve done this so many times that it’s like nothing to just read and know what the other is about to do.  It’s probably pretty fun for the younger boy, too, and Damocles finds his own joy in the trust that carefree reaction to actually falling brings Aeson.

Just as Aeson scoots off the rock, he kicks the rock side with just enough force to put a slight distance between himself and the rough surface.  They learned quickly that getting too close would only end up in scratches - which  _ both  _ of their moms and dads did not like - and it’s almost like Aeson propels himself towards Damocles everytime.  That often comes in handy because all Damocles has to do is raise his hands and catch him.

Like every other time, Aeson trills and laughs when he drops into Damocles’ arms.  He doesn’t wait for Damocles now that he doesn’t need his help any longer and pushes the comics into the older boy’s arms before rushing to get down the rocks first.  

“Come on!  Race you home!”

Damocles laughs and growls playfully as he starts jumping down the rocks to get down.  “You’re on!”


	23. Trouble 2/9196

With mom and dad out on a date at the newest restaurant that has opened up in the leisure sector of the Wraith compound for the human holiday ‘Valentine’s Day’, Cassia and her brother are left under the watch of their uncle Grunt and aunt Rym.  The choice is tonight’s wardens could have been worse and more rule abiding, but the twins think it has a lot to do with Rym not knowing how to tend to kids and Grunt being so happy to just be visiting from Tuchanka.  Cassia’s pretty sure Damocles is more than excited to have the two krogan watching them.

Still, being in their company is nice.  Even when their uncle gets loud over whatever sport he’s watching on the vidscreen, interrupting Cassia’s reading on the opposite couch.  She knows her brother doesn’t really like what’s on, but he’s playing his new Omni-Tool game with the occasional conversation when Grunt or Rym addresses him.

She can already start to hear a bit of a slur in her uncle’s voice - already downed a good number of some krogan drink - and Rym seems to be on the watch for him about to break something.  Still, he doesn’t seem completely drunk as he barks a laugh at something on the screen and jostles Damocles by the shoulder.  

“You see that?!”  Grunt stands and jerks a fist through the air, cheering wordlessly and making Cassia curious enough to glance over the top of her book to see.  She has no clue what’s happening besides krogan in two different uniforms running into and shoving each other, but it seems to be some sort of game as Grunt turns to her brother again and points to the screen.  “ _ That  _ was a hell of a fucking play!”

Damocles merely blinks at him before leaning to be able to look around the large krogan.  “It looks the same as it did earlier.”

Grunt laughs and slams his cup down on the table with enough force to slosh the liquid out and on the table.  Rym scoffs at his force, but she seems less annoyed than the sound would make Cassia believe.  After watching the two through the night, Cassia is starting to think her aunt likes her uncle, but just won’t admit it.  Ever since dinner where Grunt was loudly telling stories of what’s been happening on Tuchanka, Rym seems more forgiving of his rowdy nature - and even the fact that he’s a male.  She’s not one for males of her species because she says they’re too single-minded and machochistic, but something is different with uncle Grunt.

Stomping to the screen, Grunt shoves a finger against the screen to make the image burst into static and vibrant colors for a moment.  “You see him?”  He points at some krogan in a red uniform much like a light armor than real clothes.  “He’s the best damn charger in the damn league!  And he just scored!”  Probably seeing neither child understanding, Grunt grumbles and returns to the couch.  “Don’t you watch sports with your dad?”

“Yeah,” Damocles says, returning to his Tool, “Clawball.”

Grunt laughs dryly and jostles Damocles again, the rough looking gesture shaking him off balance.  “That ain’t no sport!  You wanna watch more than a bunch of turians chasing each other for a tiny ball, you watch this.”

Damocles follows Grunt’s point and flicks his mandibles.  “But this is just krogan fighting for a ball.”

Cassia giggles at the truth and Grunt’s huff, but Rym speaks first.  “He’s right, you know.  This is just a way for males to get out that need to fight they don’t get after the Cure.”  Rym grins and grabs the cup out of Grunt’s hand and downs it.  “Now  _ that’s  _ how you drink.”

Grunt laughs that low, slow laugh that he has and grabs the big bottle to pour himself another glass.  “Thought you said you didn’t want any.”

“Changed my mind,” she responds with a shrug and stands.  “Don’t drink it all while I get something to eat.”

“I’m hungry!”  Damocles yells at her retreating back and Cassia laughs, looking back to her book and decides to set it aside and just watch the game in attempt to understand.

She watches as krogan act like one giant wave crashing into each other for a comparably small metal ball.  The concept is simple enough, but as her uncle starts to explain in between shouts to the game, she quickly loses any chance to comprehend all the intricate rules.  It seems to be just as difficult to understand as Clawball with all the rules and stipulations for actually gaining a ‘point’.

“Grunt?”  Her brother interrupts the explanations just after their uncle lets out a booming cheer.

“Yeah?”  He drops his back against the back cushions and Cassia imagines hearing the couch crying out in pain from the force.

“What’s that?” Damocles asks as he points to the glass and rumbles curiously.

Grunt lifts a heavy brow and his jaw drops open in what looks like confusion before he snaps his mouth closed and grins.  “This?”  He holds up the glass and Cassia can see the light glimmer through the sickly looking, greenish yellow liquid.  “It’s ryncol, whelp.”  

As he downs it, Damocles watches with a considering hum.  When their uncle finishes and leans forward to pour more, Damocles stops him from putting the glass to his mouth.  “Can I try?”

“Huh?”  Glass half-tilted without pouring the liquid out on himself, Grunt slowly looks Damocles over.  There is a quiet filled only by the boisterous sounds of the game from the vidscreen, but Grunt is soon laughing loud enough that Cassia can feel it in her stomach.  “It’s ryncol!  The best damn drink in the galaxy!”

The name just solidifies Cassia’s suspicion of the sickly looking liquid being alcoholic, but she was starting to suspect from the very way it was making Grunt act.  She’s seen many of her Normandy family in some state or another of intoxication - and doesn’t fear their behavior - but she is a bit surprised Grunt is drinking it while he’s supposed to be watching them.

“Does mom and dad know?”  She rumbles as she drops her legs off the couch from where she had them folded up under the throw blanket.

Their uncle makes a weird buzzing sound before shrugging.  “I’m still watching you, aren’t I?

Cassia opens her mouth to protest, but her brother cuts her off as he scoots to the edge of his seat.  “Can I try some?”

Grunt laughs long enough for Rym to return with what looks like the entire kitchen piled on cooking trays as plates.  “What the hell are you laughing at?”

“The whelp here wants to try some ryncol!”  He starts to laugh again.  Cassia can tell that the sound only works to sour her brother’s mood.

“Oh, shut it,” Rym scolds with a shove to Grunt that makes him lose balance enough that he has to stop to catch himself.  She grins when he huffs and then points to the bottle of ryncol.  “That’s too strong for you,” she says to Damocles before looking to Grunt.  “Come.  We’ll find something less likely to get us in deep if their parents find out.”

Their uncle snorts, but stands.  “They’re babying the runts.”  He lumbers after Rym, grumbling something about it being some kind of travesty that Cassia and Damocles don’t know what ryncol is.

Cassia smiles after her uncle’s gruff opinions over her parents, thinking it’s not so bad that her parents haven’t shown them anything that’d make them as unsteady on their feet and loud as her uncle.  If that’s what being drunk is, then she’s fine as is.  She rumbles in agreement to her own decision before turning to her brother, her vocals skidding to an abrupt stop.  Stepping over Xero sleeping on the floor, Damocles glances over the couch to where their aunt and uncle have disappeared before grabbing the glass of disgusting looking alcohol.  

“Damo,” she hisses, eyes jerking to make sure the krogan aren’t coming back.  “Put that down!”  Her brother shushes her with a wave of his hand before sniffing the glass.  “Damo!  Damocl-”

Ignoring her, he drinks the liquor down in one big gulp and Cassia’s jaw drops in shock.  He coughs a bit, sticking out his tongue, but she can’t get any words out, only managing a few clicks of disbelief.  It takes her an eternity-long second before she pulls her plates into a scowl and growls.  “Damocles, how could you?”

Damocles laps his tongue out a few times before shrugging.  “What?  I wanted to try it.”

“But they didn’t,” she retorts as she hops down from her seat and yanks the bottle away when he moves for it.

“It’s not that bad, Cass.  Try it,” he whispers, eyes darting towards where their aunt and uncle disappeared off to.  “It’s not like you’re going to drink as much as Grunt, so you won’t get drunk on one drink.”

She grunts, unconvinced of his unsupported guarantee, and sniffs the bottle, only to jerk her head away with a gag.  “This is so gross!”  Pushing it back into her brother’s hands, she quickly forgets why she was holding it in the first place and snatches it back from his hands before he can drink again.  “No more!” she hisses with a both vocals.

Damocles throws up his hands with a sigh, giving her a chance to put the bottle back where it goes before she hears the heavy footsteps coming back.  She gives her brother a shove to get back to his seat and act like nothing happened, snorting softly when he trips over Xero, and runs back to her perch on the other couch.  She has just enough time to grab her book and pretend to read before Grunt and Rym return carrying one of uncle James’ bottles of beer he left behind from his last visit.

“Couldn’t find anything good that your dad wouldn’t miss,” Grunt explains as Rym snatches the empty glass off the table and Cassia holds her breath, remembering that the glass had ryncol in it before they left and now stood completely empty.

Her uncle snaps off the bottle cap with his teeth just before Rym rolls her eyes and takes it from him with enough force to slosh some out of the top.  “You’re going to have to share,” she says as she pours into the glass, most likely halfing it.  “Here.”

Damocles takes the glass with a chirp and grins at Cassia, proud of his success at sneaking a drink of ryncol and not being caught.  She fights back a subvocal retort, taking the offered bottle instead.  Once again, her brother sniffs before drinking his glass all in one go.  She, on the other hand, still doesn’t like the smell of it - considering it might just be the scent of alcohol she doesn’t like - but takes a sip to sate her curiosity.

Grunt laughs as Damocles huffs, giving her an expectant look.  Sighing, she takes another big drink and fights not to stick out her tongue at the bitter taste.  Rym and Grunt stop paying attention, apparently satisfied by the reactions, but Cassia has her brother’s expectant look to urge her on to finishing the disgusting bottle of beer.  How some of her aunts and uncles can like it is a huge mystery to her, but maybe other alcohol tastes good.  She definitely can’t imagine people like her aunt Miri drinking something as gross as ryncol or beer.

Putting the bottle down and growling at her brother in ‘happy?’, Damocles purrs and gives a slow nod before standing up.  He seems to take a moment to steady himself before speaking to get their aunt and uncle’s attention.

“We’re bored,” he simply says, moving to take the long way around the couch so he doesn’t cross directly in front of the krogan and run into the possibility of revealing himself.  He stumbles over Xero, waking the seemingly confused varren, and Cassia trills in worry that he’ll fall, but he rights himself and rumbles with a goofy grin to her.  

She scoffs under her breath and gets up with the intent to help and watch him so he doesn’t get into any more trouble alone.  Grabbing her book, she rushes after him, shrugging off Rym’s quizzical look.  “We have to take out Xero,” she explains as she rushes off to catch her surprisingly fast brother.

Her aunt must have decided to forget the twin’s weird actions because she doesn’t question further, instead sitting back to relax and watch the game Grunt is so entrapped by.  Cassia sighs a breath of relief as she fights not to run after her brother now heading down the hall, Xero at her heels.

“Damo,” she whispers loudly, trying to get his attention without attracting her aunt and uncle’s too.  “Where’d you go?”

Xero, in his own special way, must be able to understand her thoughts and intent as he gallops ahead.  Chasing after him, she rounds the corner and stumbles a bit as it makes her head spin slightly.  She shakes it off just as she hears a heavy thud just ahead of her, towards the stairs.  With a trill, she ignores the weird feeling and climbs the short stairs to find Xero happily licking a fallen Damocles’ face.

Her brother growls, trying to push the varren away.  “Stah-... stop…”  He finally uses both hands to push Xero’s head away and looks up to Cassia.  “Hey-y… Di’ ya get bored too?”

She shakes her head, making herself dizzy again, and catches herself on the wall.  “Why’d you have to drink that?” she hisses, storming over to sit down on the stairs beside him.  “You aren’t acting right anymore.”

He shrugs, his whole body swaying with the movement as he leans against her.  “Iss nothin’.  Stahp worryin…ing.”

Cassia fights not to roll her eyes so she doesn’t lose her own balance and sighs, petting Xero at their feet.  “Now what do we do?  We can’t go back.  They’ll catch us.”  Her brother gives another of those unsteady shrugs and she huffs.  “I don’t think we can make it up the stairs like this.”

“N-nope,” his vocals pop at the word as he lets his head hang for a moment.  Suddenly and just as Cassia is calming her nerves from being caught so she can figure out how to stay out of Grunt and Rym’s direct attention, Damocles jerks his head up.  That causes him to fall back against the step behind them, but he doesn’t seem to care as he chirps happily.  “Got an idea!”  She quickly shushes him, even using her hands to lower his volume, but he whips his hands at her in his own way to hush her.  “Less go to the bitch… beesh… beach!”

Growling at his insistence to not be quiet, she thinks that going out might not be such a bad idea and definitely a way to keep them hidden until this weird feeling goes away.  She stands and uses a hand on the wall to support herself as she helps Damocles up to his own shaky feet.  Without a second thought, he starts to walk - leaning sideways before catching himself on the walls - but stops at the door to the armory.

“What?”  She nearly bumps into his back and hums in frustration that he seems to be action worse like this.  “Why’d you stop?”

“Less make it… fun…”  He smirks, but it looks ridiculous on his face right now, and Cassia growls warningly.

“No.”

“Come on…”  His vocals whine as he hovers his hand over the open command.  “We won’ hurt anyone… Just prast… prat...prac-”

“Practice,” she offers, not wanting them to get caught standing in the middle of the front hall.  When he nods, she sighs and thinks it over.

There’s no way she can force her brother to give up the idea, their squaring off bound to just get them caught because neither is less stubborn than the other.  She has to admit that the idea of going out to the beach and just practice shooting like they used to when dad first started teaching them is a really appealing one.  It’s not like they can hurt anyone with the foam darts - even if they were going to go against their teachings and fire towards the compound instead of the sea.  Giving in to the idea, she opens the crate with them and gathers up all the targets, her arms overfilling, while her brother grabs the practice weapons.

Cassia leads the way out of the house and onto the special patch of beach their family has all to themselves.  She starts to set up the targets, letting Damocles load the practice rifles, and, once all are in place, steps back to look over her work.  With a rumble and nod of pride at her work, she walks backwards towards her brother with a smile.  That smile drops when she turns and sees something that definitely shouldn’t be out, and especially not anywhere near either of them without supervision.

Somehow, Damocles managed to find their dad’s prized Widow rifle and holds it up to his shoulder.  It’s massive in his hands, the dangerous weapon still too big for him, and Cassia screams with her harmonics as she runs over.

“Put that down!”  She tries to grab for it, but Damocles holds it out of her reach, trilling teasingly.  “Damo!” she whines, grabbing the barrel and tugging on it.

“What?  Iss loaded wit dummies.”  He shrugs, side stepping to catch his balance.  “Won’ hurt nobody.”

She growls and stumbles when he jerks the gun from her hand, scowling at her lopsidedly.  She tries to grab for it again, but knows she won’t be able to catch it when he raises it above her head, so she changes her approach.  Instead of trying to get it out of his hands with pulls and tugs, she moves to him and tries pushing his shoulder in one direction and the rifle the other.

Damocles growls and grabs her hand off him.  “Stop it!”  Pulling his mandibles tight to his chin, he backs away far enough that she can’t grab for the weapon again.

Cassia gives one final attempt, frowning and pouting in plea, but soon sighs.  Storming to the rocks near their shooting range, she sits as she starts to feel woozy.  She watches as her brother looks down the sights of the large, black weapon with her chin in her hand, elbow on her knee.  If she didn’t feel so bad, she’d put up more of a fight, but, she considers, maybe it might be cool to try the rifle out once Damocles gets a shot.

“Ready?” Damocles calls over, grinning, and she can’t help forgiving him and smiling herself.  She’d nod if even the attempt had her losing her balance.

She watches as her brother lifts the rifle to his shoulder, adjusting it a few times to get the right fit against his cowl.  His hands fidget to get a good grip - a routine he always does when they practice with rifles - and he tries to tilt his head to sight down the scope.  It seems like he can’t get a good look and gives up trying, but Cassia isn’t too surprised given how the weapon is meant for their dad, who still towers over her slightly taller brother.  

Taking just a moment more to prepare, Damocles rolls his shoulder against the butt of the rifle and lays his finger on the trigger.  Cassia breathes with him, inhaling slow and deep, and waits a second just like their dad always does.  Feeling even her own adrenaline begin to rise, she widens her eyes and leans forward in anticipation.

The sound is near deafening and she can swear that it’s louder than when their dad fires the weapon, but she doesn’t know if it’s her mind playing tricks.  It’s over before she can even blink and leaves her ears ringing.  She soon realizes, when the sound continues past the normal few seconds of time to regain her hearing, instant that the ringing isn’t coming from her own ears at all.

The piercing sound is coming from her brother.

“Damo!”  Gasping with a shrill keen, Cassia runs to her brother.  He screams in pain and grips his shoulder as his arm hangs limp at his side, the rifle now abandoned at his feet.

Skidding to a stop, Cassia tries to see his injury, but any slight touch only makes him snarl and cry out.  She whimpers and holds her hands up, eyes scouring the beach for help.  Only knowing one option to get Damocles help, she urges him to hold on with a wave of her hand and makes a sprint for the house with Xero at her heels.

She jumps up the steps and flings the front door open with a bang, skidding to a stop at the base of the short stairs leading into the house from the entryway.  “Grunt!  Rym!  Hurry!  Come quick!” she wails, vocals undulating in shock and fear.  “Damo needs help!”

She never knew krogan could move so fast as her aunt and uncle practically fly out of the house, their backs swaying in the fastest she’s ever seen a krogan go.  She’s still able to run quicker as she passes them and returns to her brother, eyes wide at the odd angle his arm hangs from his shoulder.

“What the fuck did you do?”  Grunt sounds more worried than angry as he grabs Damocles and flops him over his shoulder.  “Tell Solus to get his ass to the clinic,” he shouts to Rym as he storms down the beach towards the compound.

Cassia runs behind her uncle, her chest clenching in pain for her pain.  She can’t believe she didn’t fight him more, that she could have stopped him if she didn’t feel so weird because of that stupid drink.  Never again will she let herself get so distracted that her brother or anyone else could get hurt.

The time it takes to get to Dr Solus’ lap seems to speed by as it feels as if they all arrive in record time.  The doctor’s already in and rushing through the office gathering all manner of things from bandages to some needles and bottles of liquid.  There are other types of silver tools that Cassia has no idea what they’re for, but all the movement and chattering stops as the doctor sees her brother, hears his cries.

“Come.  Here.  Lay on exam table,” Dr Solus says as he waves to a flat bed with a paper sheet pulled over and grabs a large light on a mechanical arm, pulling it over and flicking it on.  “Cause of injury?”

“I don’t know.  Ask her.”  Grunt is gruff as he sets Damocles on the table, stepping away as if Damocles could break more if he stood too close.

Before Elihu Solus can even ask, Cassia wrings her hands and looks up from under her brow plates.  “We… we were shooting on the beach…”

Rym grunts and nudges Cassia’s back.  “Speak the truth of it.”

Whining, she flutters her mandibles nervously and looks to her brother with a frown.  “We were trying to shoot daddy’s gun.”

The salarian’s eyes widen before he hums and nods, moving to his shiny tools and grabbing some scissors.  “Will need to remove shirt.”  He starts to cut through the fabric of Damocles’ shirt and Cassia keens as her brother whines and whimpers.  “Ah.  Dislocated shoulder.  Possible fracture in clavicle.  Will need scans to be sure.”

“Just do it, doc.”  Grunt lays a hand on Cassia’s shoulder before turning away.  “I’m calling their parents.”

Panic wells up in Cassia’s chest and she hears Damocles take in a deep breath, but she accepts that they’ll be in trouble for a long time know.  She closes her eyes and sighs before moving over to her brother’s left, taking his hand in hers.  “It’s going to be okay, Damo.  They won’t be mad,” she says in attempt to make him feel even a little better when she can’t stop his pain.  “Don’t worry.”

Her brother keens, but nods as he looks down to her.  The Doctor runs a handheld scanner over Damocles, humming before releasing a sound of exclamation.  “Ah!  Yes.  Broken clavicle.  Dislocated shoulder.  Should heal once reset.”

“Will it hurt?”  Damocles flinches when the doctor urges him to let go of his shoulder.

Dr Solus sniffs and stops, glancing at Grunt’s back before Damocles.  “Had bit of ryncol, yes?”

“ _ What?” _  When Rym stills and looks at first Damocles, then Cassia with raised brow ridges, Cassia can't keep from ducking her head.

Damocles huffs a weak trill.  “...Yes?”

“Don't ask  _ me.   _ I'm asking  _ you. _ ”  Crossing her arms, she leans back on her hip and grumbles to herself.

Grunt enters and looks around at everyone, the only person not standing around bothered by the whole incident Doctor Solus.  “What's everyone so quiet for?”

“The twins got a hold of your ryncol, is what.”  Shaking her head, Rym drops her arms and rubs her forehead just below the plates.  “Jane and Garrus will never leave them in our care ever again.”  She starts to pace.  “I  _ told  _ them I ain't good with kids!”

Grunt grips her shoulders to make her stop and soon grins, looking to Damocles.  “Don’t let it get to ya.  No one can stomach ryncol their first time.”  Rym growls at him and he laughs.  “Kid’s got a quad to even try!”

“Too loud.”  Elihu sets down a needle filled with some slightly blue liquid and waves his hands at everyone to shoo them.  “Out of exam room.  Need peace and quiet.  Less stressful on patient.”

The smaller salarian literally pushes at the two krogan and Cassia gives her brother one last look of worry before following.  The sound of the door swishing closed feels like the thunder of an ominous storm and she wrings her hands, afraid of the punishment they'll receive.  She really doesn't think it'll be worse than what she and Damocles already feel, but her parents can be very inventive in everything, so she doesn't expect them to go easy now.

As time passes painfully slow, Cassia worries at her dress.  It's almost as if she can feel a pain in her own body even without actually being hurt, but maybe it has to do with how close she and her brother are, on how much she cares about him.  They're in this together, even if it was Damocles leading the way, and that connection even makes her imagine being hurt.  If only she could be in there to hold her brother's hand and help Dr Solus.

Though the doors are automatic and slide open with whispers of sound, all three of them waiting in the lobby flinch because they all  _ know _ who’d be here at this very moment.  The fact that even the two krogan are scared of her parents doesn't really make Cassia feel all that much better, but it's the look on her parents’ faces that really make her mandibles quiver.

“What the  _ fuck _ do we leave you around to even  _ do?! _ ”  Mom stomps to Grunt and punches him, making Cassia flinch.  

Dad, on the other hand, snarls and waits until uncle Grunt shakes off the hit before kicking a knee into the krogan’s belly.  “Just what the hell were you  _ thinking _ ?” He hisses as Grunt grunts and grips his waist from the hit.  

Cassia's parents turn to Rym before her uncle can even answer and mom shoves a finger in the krogan's face.  “We leave you both there for  _ one god damn night _ and we find out you let Damocles get hurt?!”

Rym moves to open her mouth, but snaps it shut when dad growls low and shoves her out of his way towards the exam room.  “Get out of my way, you  _ useless _ krogan…”  When the door doesn't open, he slams his fist on the locked command.  “Solus!  You open this damn door!”

“Daddy.”  Cassia stands up and moves to him, feeling the fury radiating off him cooling just a fraction as she comes closer.  “They didn't do anything,” she admits as she looks to her aunt and uncle.  “Damocles and I snuck out when they weren't looking.”

Her mom comes over, hands clenching and relaxing.  “What happened?  I want to hear it from you.”

Cassia sees Rym's expectant look over her mom's form and swallows, fighting down her vocals and failing to completely keep silent.  “Damo and I were going to sneak out training guns and targets…”

Mom waves her hand, obviously knowing there's more, and Cassia looks to her hands gripping the hem of her dress.  “Damo took daddy's rifle.”

Both of her parents go silent and look at each other.  Soon, her dad sighs and rubs his forehead plate, saying, “Well, I guess I should have locked it up.”  When Cassia nods, hoping that she and Damocles won’t be in too much trouble since it sounds like dad did something wrong in not locking away his gun, her father tenses his mandibles.  “But you two should know better than to take out a weapon you have no training for  _ on top  _ of not taking out training equipment without someone to supervise.”

“But…”

“Your dad’s right.  We may have fucked up in not locking it, but you should have known better.”  Mom shakes her head and exhales heavily.  “But that’s neither here nor there.  Point remains the same.  You’re not old or big enough to shoot your dad’s rifle.”  She cocks her hip and crosses her arms as she looks to dad.  “Looks like we’re locking the whole armory.”

Dad nods with a rumble.  “Looks like.”  

Cassia’s heart drops at the idea.  “But we can be good-”

Dad gives a jerk of his head and lays a hand on Cassia’s head.  “You can’t treat weapons like playthings.  And as soon as we see your brother, he’s in for the same talk.”

Mom looks up over Cassia’s back and nudges dad, motioning.  “Looks like Solus is done.”

Cassia’s mandibles shake in guilt as she ducks her head and follows her parents into the exam room.  Her brother’s laying down on the bed with a sling around his right arm and eyes half lidded.  He trills so soflty when she and her parents enter and moves to the bed and smile reassuringly to him.  She knows it’s going to get worse once mom and dad start scolding him too.

“How are you feeling?”  Mom goes to him and kisses his forehead, followed by dad purring and running his hand over Damocles’ fringe.

“‘M ‘kay.”  His response must not sound right to them as dad stills and Cassia sees his nose wiggle.

“Have… you been  _ drinking _ ?”

“ _ What? _ ”  Mom scowls and looks over her shoulder to Cassia’s aunt and uncle.  “You gave them  _ alcohol _ ?-”

“Ryncol,” dad says, leaning up from Damocles and growling at Grunt and Rym.

“What the  _ fuck  _ were you two thinking?!”  Mom stomps over to the krogan and balls her fist, ready to punch Grunt again.

“I didn’t give them any damn ryncol!”  Grunt’s voice sounds like a growl as he steps away from mom and out of her reach.  “We gave them some of that weak shit you humans all drink - well, not you, but the others.”

Mom frowns in confusion, but Rym explains.  “Beer.”

“Beer doesn’t smell like ryncol.”  Dad’s mandibles flick at the krogan and Cassia doesn’t want her aunt and uncle to be in trouble for something they didn’t do, so she nudges her brother’s good side and mouths ‘tell them’.

He shakes his head, but a stern glare from her seems to convince him as he rumbles and frowns.  “Dad?”  When their parents don’t respond, he growls and raises his voice.  “Dad!”

Everyone stops mid arguing and their parents look to Damocles.  Even Cassia feels the weight of their looks and ducks her head in guilt, but Damocles pushes on.  “I it.  Nobody was lookin’.”

Mom’s mouth falls open as dad trills once in shock, but he quickly hums in irritation.  “And why did you do that?”

“Because I wanted to try it,” Damocles says, his good hand flexing on the exam table.  “Cassia didn’ take any, though.  She was good.”

Cassia’s eyes widen and she shakes her head, not wanting him to take the blame.  Mom crosses her arms and lifts a brow.  “And who had the idea to take your dad’s weapon outside and try it out?”

Damocles chirps sadly and ducks his head, answering.  “Me.”

“And what did I say about using a weapon?” dad asks as he waves away Grunt and Rym, making them step out and far enough away that the exam room’s door closes.  “Did I say anything about taking a weapon you are untrained in out without either my or your mother there?”

“No,” Damocles whispers and keens softly.  “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry is a bit late,” mom remarks, but sighs.  “You both know you aren’t going to get off with just a slap on the wrist, right?”

Dad rumbles and nods in agreement, crossing his arms and tapping his talons on his forearm.  “She’s right.  You both need to learn there are consequences for your actions.  It’s obvious that we messed up by not locking the armory, but, on the other hand, we didn’t break the rules already set out.”  He looks to Cassia.  “You smell of alcohol, and I thought it was because you were with Grunt, but, now knowing the truth, I see that you disobeyed the rule not to drink until you’re legally allowed to.  For that  _ as well _ as getting into the armory without an adult to watch over you, you will clean the house for six months without help.”

“You also won’t be allowed to see your friends either unless we say so,” mom adds and Cassia keens softly in sadness.  Cleaning, she could handle, but not being able to see Gelta or Alexia feels so much worse than even disappointed her parents.

“Okay,” she whispers and looks to the floor.

“And Damocles,” her father starts and Cassia glances up enough to watch her brother visibly shrink.  “For drinking not only against the rules but behind Grunt and Rym’s backs-”

“And  _ ryncol _ , of all things!”  Dad hums at mom for her interruption and she clears her throat.  “We’ll explain later why that’s a  _ very  _ bad thing.”

Dad nods and continues.  “Because you drank, disobeyed the rules concerning the armory, and took my weapon out, you will be cleaning the latrines at your school for six months-”

Cassia and Damocles both gasp aloud and Damocles sits up straight in his seat.  “How come I don’t get the same punishment?!”

“Because, by all accounts, you instigated this.  Do you have any  _ idea  _ how much worse this all could have gone?”  Dad rumbles and frowns.  “Ryncol is bad enough, but firing my weapon was liable to do much worse than,” he stops to look at the Doctor and says, “What are his injuries?”

Solus jerks a bit, stopped in his cleaning of the slight mess caring for Damocles made.  “Hm?  Oh.  Yes.”  He comes over and opens his Tool to wave over Damocles.  “Broken clavicle.  Dislocated shoulder.  Both need rest and will provide medication for pain.  Torn rotator cuff needs surgery to repair.  Predict will be smooth and short procedure.  Ryncol consumption caused minor poisoning.  Managed to flush system, but will suffer effects similar to a ‘hangover’.”

“Damn…” mom whispers and dad rumbles deeply, rubbing his fringe.

“Right.  Until your injuries heal, you will not be allowed to see Aeson, but once you are in a healthy state, you will start your punishment at your school.”

“But I already got hurt…”  Damocles growls softly and lowers his head.  “I don’t understand why I still get in trouble.”

Mom snorts and walks to the bed, cupping Damocles’ face in her hands.  “When you are out on the field and disobey an order, you not only get yourself hurt, but you put everyone relying on you at risk.  Physical injury will not teach you the dangers your actions present to others.  What if Cassia was the first to try out the weapon that you took out?”

Damocles’ eyes widen and he grabs mom’s wrists.  “I never would’ve done that!”

“Whether or not you intend to doesn’t matter,” dad says, laying a hand on Cassia and Damocles’ shoulder.  “Punishment is meant to show you the consequences of your actions.  If we had given you a lesser punishment, you wouldn’t learn.”

Damocles keens softly and nods.  “I’m sorry.”

Mom smiles and kisses his forehead, then hugging Cassia.  “It’s okay.  Lesson learned.”

Dad purrs and nuzzles his mandible to Damocles’, then Cassia’s forehead.  “We’ll lock the armory from now on and stay home the rest of the night.  You both need rest to get over whatever it was you both drank.  Punishments can wait until tomorrow.”

 


	24. Tattoo 1/2197

Pop-pop’s visits usually entail quite a bit of arguing between himself and dad.  Very much like they’re doing now.  Damocles sighs and tries to turn the vidscreen volume up to drown out the two’s argument, but he can still manage to make out the words said when they think neither he nor his sister can hear.

“They are still turian, Garrus.  They deserve to know their heritage,” pop-pop says, humming in frustration, and Damocles can hear his dad sigh with a slight growl to his vocals.

“I told you, already.  They  _ do  _ know about their heritage.  At least that which can be of any importance to them.”

“Like?”

“The Unification War, Hierarchy laws, the concepts of Spirits-”

“Do they know the war hymns?  The history behind our people’s art?” pop-pop interrupts and dad makes another annoyed growl under his breath.

“Do  _ you _ ?”  When pop-pop is silent, dad snorts.  “Right, because there isn’t any real world justification for knowing those things.  I let them learn what they can in their teaching lessons and I fill in what I think they should know.  I’m not forcing them to memorize something that will never come in handy when their lives depend on it.”

“That’s not the point,” pop-pop hisses and Damocles rolls his eyes, flicking his mandibles in exasperation.  Why pop-pop always has to question dad’s raising of them, he’ll never know.  “The point is showing them the good of the turian people, values outside of fighting some battle or another.  They deserve to know all these things even if they will never draw on that experience in life.”

“Then why don’t  _ you show them _ whenever they visit Palaven?  If there were anywhere where they can learn about our people, it’s there!”

“I do the best I can, Garrus!”  Pop-pop takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly.  “I try to teach them everything I taught you, everything I tried to make you understand.”

Dad scoffs.  “I understand plenty.  I understand that, while you were making turian history a punishment I didn’t deserve, I learned absolutely nothing that has aided me any in my life.  What good did war hymns do when I was bleeding to death in Jane’s arms?  What good did knowing the paints of every turian colony do when I was pinned by a tank, losing blood and dying, all while watching my wife most likely running away to her death?  And what about the Spirits?  What did memorizing every Spirit in existence do when krogan were trying to sacrifice my children to bring about another war?”  Damocles hears his dad snarl and imagines him stepping closer to his dad in the way that always makes him look like he towers over everyone, even if he only stands a few inches above pop-pop.  “What did they do for me all those times?  I’ll tell you.   _ Not a damn thing. _ ”

“ _ This isn't about  _ **_you_ ** ,” Pop-pop hisses and dad rumbles angrily, warning clear in his subvocals.  “Think about your mother.  What would she have thought if you told her you didn't think it important enough to teach your kids our people's culture?”

“Don't you  _ dare _ bring mom into this.”  Dad snarls before a long pause falls between them both.  “I know one thing, mom wouldn't want you trying to guilt me into doing what you want by using her.  I let you show my kids everything you want when they visit, and I don't owe you anything concerning what I do and don't teach them.”

Pop-pop exhales heavily.  “I do it for your children's well-being, not out of some vendetta to undermine your parenting.”

“That's exactly what you're doing by insinuating I don't know what's best for my own damn children.  You have no right to feel justified saying anything to me about it because you were  _ far _ from the best father.”  When dad stops speaking, there rests a long, uncomfortable silence after which he sighs.  “Fine.  I'll do one thing you expect, but I do it my way.”

“And what's that?”

“Despite it being irrelevant, I'll show them how to paint my birth colony's pattern.  They may not have been born where you or I was, but it's the closest thing-”

Pop-pop makes a disbelieving scoff.  “You  _ haven't shown them that already? _  Spirits, Garrus.  Do you  _ want  _ them to be barefaced?”

Dad growls.  “I  _ want  _ them not to feel pressure to pledge allegiance to a people that doesn't even know they exist.  And, if the Hierarchy did, one that would make them feel wanted and not like some pariah.  I'll teach them out of principal and to show them the importance to turians, but it's going to be their own damn decision to wear them or not.”

Pop-pop sighs and it seems to be the end of the conversation as Damocles hears a pair of footsteps approaching from the entry into the living room.  His sister tenses and lifts her book closer to her face as if trying to make it more obvious she's reading and not eavesdropping.  Damocles merely turns his attention back to the vidscreen and whatever he managed to find earlier, but lost track of long ago.

“Damocles, Cassia.”  Dad steps into the living room, irritation written plainly across his features.  “I have an errand to you to run.”  He opens his Omni-Tool and begins to type.  “Do you know where Lieutenant Jemna Diosk lives?”

Damocles takes a moment to go through the list of names of Wraith fighters, having taken the effort along with his sister to try and learn the higher ranking mercenaries for when they become old enough to take jobs.  The Lieutenant, especially, made an impression when Cassia found out she works with the combat vehicles and surprisingly fell in love with shadowing the asari woman to learn her work.  Damocles stuck to watching the combat operatives practice, trying to commit their tactics and movements to memory to practice later, but he knows the woman enough to know what dad’s asking.

“Yeah,” Cassia answers, lowering her book and chirping in question, but not asking aloud.

Dad nods, not yet looking up from his Tool.  “I need you to head to her house and talk to her mate, the Wraith  artifex .  I’m sending a list of supplies I’d like you to pick up from him.”  He glances pop-pop’s way and narrows his eyes.  “We’ll be learning how to paint on my and the Wraith colony paints.”

Pop-pop pulls in his mandibles into a look of distaste.  “The Wraith’s?  That’s far from an example of the importance-”

“Isn’t it?”  Dad flicks off his Omni-Tool and turns to face pop-pop directly.  “The mere fact that it was our men that developed and decided to wear it without orders tells me the insignia is pretty damn important to them.  Colony paints point to loyalty and, even if we don't require our men to wear them to prove their loyalty, I know it's that very concept you are so adamant about me teaching the twins.  It's not paints that make someone loyal, but if they want to be proud of the Wraiths, then you better believe I'm going to teach it to them.”

Pop-pop scoffs.  “You might as well save yourself the work and remove your own if where you came from means so little to you.”

Rubbing his forehead, dad sighs loudly.  “Here you go again.  Like always, you're only hearing what you want to hear and toning out what I'm really saying.”  He drops his hand and looks to Damocles and his sister.  “You already know the history behind insignias and their reason turians still wear them even though there no longer exists any separate colonies.”  

It's said in such a way that sounds like dad wants an answer, so Damocles nods with a rumble as Cassia says, “It’s to show loyalty to your home, even if it's not your birthplace.  You are proud of your home and what it means even though you fight for the Hierarchy together.  To not wear any would make people think you are loyal to no one but yourself or hiding something about your intentions.  Those turians are called 'barefaced’ and nobody really likes them.”  Thrumming in confusion, she tilts her head.  “What colony insignia are we supposed to wear?”

Pop-pop glances at dad with a pinched expression, but dad smiles as he answers.  “Either, princess.  If you choose to wear a Hierarchy insignia, you don't even have to wear mine.  You can choose just as any other turian can when they finally come of age and decide where they want to consider 'home’.  But if you want to wear the Wraiths’ one, then you can do that too.”  Humming, he looks directly at pop-pop.  “Or you can even choose not to have them done permanently and only paint them on when you choose.  Or are pressured into,” he adds, inflection accusing.  Returning his eyes to Damocles and his sister, he purrs and smiles.  “I wear mine because it reminds me of my childhood, but also because I don’t want you to ever feel like I wouldn’t want you to establish any possible relationship with the Hierarchy.  I know that you know about why we live here on Virmire, but, when you’re an adult in a few years, you can choose a legitimate life with the turian people.”

“But they wouldn’t want us,” Damocles says, narrowing his eyes.  “They didn’t accept you back then when you started the Wraiths.”

“True.”  Dad nods.  “But the Hierarchy doesn’t hold the parent’s actions against the child.  You earn your place just as much as anyone else without any factors besides your ability to serve.”  Stepping to them, he lays a hand on each child’s shoulder.  “Will I lie and say I want you to do that?  No,” he says, shaking his head once, “but you know I won’t stand in your way or talk you out of something if it’s truly what you want to do.”

Damocles knows he wants to stay with the Wraiths when he reaches adulthood, and he knows his sister wants to as well even though she sometimes wonders what it’d be like.  The Wraiths is a family.   _ Virmire is home _ .  Even if she wants to wear the colony paints of their father, pop-pop, and aunt Sol, Damocles knows it would only be because she wants to feel closer to them, much like why she’d ever think about the Hierarchy, but not because she wanted to serve a people that doesn’t want the two of them.  Even if Primarch Victus doesn’t believe mom and dad are criminals, Damocles and Cassia are still something that was never supposed to be born, more a curiosity than turians  _ wanted  _ to serve with the rest of their people.

He’s fine with that and knows his sister is too.  Just like their parents and a lot of their aunts and uncles.

He’ll still learn how to paint insignias, though, because that knowledge could prove very useful when he and Cassia begin to work jobs.  Being able to apply colony paints could let them disguise themselves as members of any colony they want, and that could get them into places being ‘barefaced’ or wearing Wraith paints couldn’t.

“I can’t believe you’re willing to warp our people’s traditions just to contradict me.”  Pop-pop growls softly and moves to stand before dad, a scowl on his face.  “Do you always have to make a point of going against everything I say?  Must we always fight?”

Dad doesn’t completely face pop-pop, only glancing his way out of the corner of his eye.  “You made this a fight when you questioned the way I raise my children.  You want me to teach the concept of loyalty to their people by painting insignias, then I’ll include the one my men have designed.  Not to do so would just make the lesson pointless, a denial of any acknowledgment of the Wraith company being more than just a merc company.  Virmire is our home,” he says, finally turning to pop-pop, “and I’ll show them the way to use turian customs to show that.”  Pop-pop sighs, mandibles pinched tightly to his jaw, but doesn’t press further.  Seeing his father’s reaction, dad nods once with a dip of his chin.  “Good.  And as for all the rest of complaints you have about my parenting, it can wait until my children are gone.”  Glancing down to Damocles and Cassia, dad smiles and thrums lowly in his chest.  “You can stop by the markets if you want, get yourselves something to eat.  There’s a credit chit that’ll pay for it, and I’ve already transferred credits to the Lieutenant's mate.  His name is Arin Taskis, he’ll be waiting for you two.”

“Okay, dad,” Damocles answers as Cassis nods, leading the way to the door.  She grabs a chit off of one of the small tables in the entryway they all usually use to store items that could be needed outside like umbrellas, spare credits, a few keys to some of their families’ homes, and other various junk.

“Really, Garrus,” pop-pop starts just as Damocles and his sister reach for the front door.  “Is it so hard to imagine I want what’s best for them?”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.  What I doubt is your ability to agree with anything I choose to do-”

Damocles notices Cassia’s shoulder droop and shakes his head at how ridiculous his pop-pop and dad can be.  He opens the door for his sister before they manage to hear anymore of the argument and it seems that there’s no way she would have been able to move any faster to escape.  Following her out, he pulls the door shut a bit forcefully to alert his dad and pop-pop that he and Cassia were still there and having to hear more of their shit, heading down the steps quickly to catch up with his sister.  With chit in hand and Damocles already imagining what he plans to get at the market, they make their way towards the residential sector of the Wraith compound in silence.

“I hate when they fight,” Cassia finally says, her head down and brow plates furrowed.  “Why do they always have to?”

Damocles knows she isn’t really asking him, but he shrugs anyways and answers her as best as he can.  “Pop-pop always starts the fights.”

“No he doesn’t.”  From the corner of his eye, he sees her frown at him.

Huffing in frustration over having to argue about an argument, Damocles glances to her and pulls in his mandibles.  “Yeah, he does.  But what’s the point?  Dad is right, you know.”

“You can’t say that.”  She growls at him, stepping forward and in front of him, glaring into his eyes.  “We shouldn’t get involved in their arguments.”

Damocles huffs and crosses his arms, lifting a brow plate.  “Why not?”  

“Because then pop-pop would be outnumbered and that’s not fair.  It’s two against one-”

“Fine.  Then  _ you  _ take his side and it’ll be even.”  He pauses and a smirk slowly spreads across his mandibles as he sees her stern expression falter.  “Right.  Because you want to take his side.”

“I don’t want to take  _ anyone’s side _ ,” she hisses at him, balling her hands into fists.  “I told you, it’s none.  Of.  Our.  Business.”  Before Damocles can respond, she growls and spins, stomping down the path.

Damocles speeds up his walk to catch her.  “If it’s none of our business, why’d you bring it up?”

“Because ….  Just because.”  Exhaling a huff through her nose with an agitated rumbling in her vocals, she throws him a glare from the corner of her eye.  “Just shut up.”

He snorts, just finding the fact that she’s been caught contradicting herself amusing.  He knows he should be nice, but he also knows when she’s wrong and isn’t going to just be quiet about it.  Plus, sometimes it’s just fun to irritate her and get to relish being right.  “You know I’m right, Cass.”

“Shut up.”  Her voice is low as her gaze stays glued to the ground just in front of her feet.  

Damocles’ victory suddenly seems hollow and reaction doesn’t sit well anymore, instead like an ache he once had when he snuck drinks from uncle Grunt’s ryncol.  Shoulders drooping, he rumbles in apology and nudges her side with a hand.  She grunts and swats at him, but doesn’t look his way.  “Cass….”

“No.  Just be quiet.  You’re right, I’m wrong.  There.  Happy?”

He wants to answer her with the truth, but he’s starting to get really frustrated with her.  He was definitely right about her going against her words from before, and he sticks by what he said about pop-pop and dad fighting.  Pop-pop didn’t have to tell dad what to do, didn’t have to make him feel bad, and really didn’t have any say in what he taught Damocles and sister.  Damocles didn’t feel like he was missing out and, sure, he liked the trips pop-pop took them on when they visited Palaven, the things they learned pretty cool, but he couldn’t just boss dad around.  

What’s worse is that pop-pop had to make dad feel bad my bringing up their dead grandmother.  A grandmother Damocles have never met and one that dad never talked about, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that dad had a reason.  Judging by dad’s reaction, Damocles can guess that his grandmother meant a lot to dad.  He knows he’d be really defensive if  _ his  _ mother was dead and someone tried to tell me what she would think, as if it was just ammunition to guilt him into doing something because of the question ‘What would your mother think?’.  He’d get pissed too.

Purring softly, Damocles leans over and butts his head to Cassia’s.  “I’m sorry.”

Cassia sighs, but he sees her mandibles relax against her jaw and tension fall off of her body.  “It’s okay….  I just get upset when they always fight.  I like when pop-pop teaches us, but he treats dad like he’s wrong.  As if they can’t do things differently.”  She wraps her arms around her midsection.  “I see both sides, and it’s hard to have to choose.”

“Then don’t,” he says and, when she looks up to him in question, he smiles, tilting his head.  “Who says we have to get into their shit?  I say we worry about that when they make us be a part of it.”

Cassia returns his smile and nods happily, wrapping her arm around him to get close enough to bump him with her head.  “You’re right.  And, if we do have to get involved, then I’m going to get them to stop bickering like kids.”

He chuckles and shifts to squeeze her to his side in return before they part.  “Definitely.  And I think it might be pretty cool to be able to disguise ourselves with the insignias pop-pop shows us, but still have one specifically for the Wraiths.”

“You think … that dad might tell us about grandma one day?”  She frowns, trilling in sadness, before looking to him.  “Dad seems like he really loves her.”

Damocles hums in agreement as they cross the street in front of their destination.  It’s an unassuming house, uniform like all the others on the street save for a small sign in the yard that advertises artifex Taskis’ services, apparently able to satisfy all species’ needs requiring some sort of paint and flesh.  For a human, he’d be considered a ‘tattooist’, and that piqued Damocles’ own interest.

The artifex must be who mom has come to for her own tattoos, repairing the one of dad on her back that injuries mostly destroyed and getting a handful of others.  On her chest, just below both collar bones, two colorful 'traditional style swallows’ - as she called them - held a ribbon with each his own and his sister's names as the birds seemed to be in flight.  She didn't have any more, though,because she claimed that it wouldn't be the same to cover her prosthetics with painted on images and her arms were mostly covered in scars.  That, and she said a tattoo should have meaning and relevance - and easy concealment in certain cases - in someone's life.  Damocles knew  _ his _ will each get special to him, maybe even helping him be proud of his own body instead of despise it and trying to force it to fit with the turian standard.

Unconsciously twitching his toes in his boots, Damocles feels the extra toe protest at having been forced into a shoe built to fit only two.  He knows that special shoes have been made for himself and Cassia, but wearing the wider boots just made him stand out as if he wore flashing lights all over his body.  He’s relieved that, so far, his parents haven't decided to introduce shoes with individual toes into his wardrobe.  That design would make it much more difficult to force his three toes to fit, even if he would bind his extra to the one beside it as he does now.  So far, at least, no one has questioned him, perhaps not really aware of what shoes he wears since his walking isn't affected.

There are times in his own bedroom, alone, where he'd bind his fingers as well to imitate possessing only two and a thumb.  He knows he'd never hear the end of it if anyone found out, but his parents and sister tend to give him privacy when his door is shut.  Once he's an adult, however, he won't worry about needing to hide his need to pretend his body is natural in hiding, because he'd be at the age where no one will have any fucking say in how he presents himself.  If mom and dad really don't like it, he'll just end up working towards getting his own place.  Then he can even wear a binder around his waist as well and get himself proper turian clothes, not the stupid custom made clothes that always needed to go to a specialist to alter.

“Come on,” Cassia says, nudging Damocles out if his thoughts before she makes her way up the path.  “Let's be sure to get blue  _ and  _ black paints.  I actually want to learn how to do the Wraith insignia.”

“I'm surprised.”  Damocles pushes his hands into his pockets and follows, but stops in his tracks when his sister huffs in annoyance and swings around to face him.  “What?  I didn't think you liked the Wraiths all that much.”

Cassia snorts and steps closer to him to bump the flat of her palm against his forehead.  “I  _ love _ being a Wraith, dummy.”  Crossing her arms, she cocks a hip.  “And someone will have to rein you in on missions.”

Damocles’ eyes widen in surprise and he flutters his mandibles with a trill.  “Really?  You want to stick around?  Take contracts with me?” he asks and has to clamp down his embarrassed mandibles when she nods, proving his assumption absolutely wrong.  “But… I thought you didn't like the idea of combat.”

His sister shrugs.  “I won't start a fight, but I won't let you go it all alone.”  She grins and adds, “And you can't fly worth a damn.  Someone's gotta get you out of tight situations.”  Softening, she closes the gap between them and wraps her arms around him, hugging him as she purrs.  “And you're my brother, my  _ twin _ ….  Where one goes, the other follows.” says as she gives Damocles a nudge and a look that feels pointedly aware of his inner thoughts and secrets.  

Knowing her, that’s a very likely possibility, even if he wishes otherwise.  Of all the people, his sister is the last one he wants to see his unhappiness with his body, because that’s just like her body.  Cassia just seems both more emotionally and physically comfortable with herself, and the last thing he wants to do is make her believe he doesn’t think she isn’t because he sees nothing but abnormalities in himself.  

Cassia just plain looks better than Damocles, like she could truly belong without needing to hide.

Beside the door to the home sits an intercom console with the text ‘Artifex Services Available Every Cycle from 0900 to 2100.  Feel Free to Walk Right In’ displayed above the call command.  It’s still early in the afternoon, but it still feels rude not to call ahead for permission, the idea conflicting with the idea of not just barging into people’s homes without either knowing and having given a heads up or asking permission from non-family. 

Moving to press the button, Damocles doesn’t expect his sister to lightly swat his hand and shove in front of him to press the button.  He snorts, trying to push her away just as she manages to hit the command with the very tip of her talon.  Chime echoing through the home, she steps back, chest puffed, a victories glint in her eyes, and sticks her tongue out between her mouth plates.  Rumbling in amusement when her expression shifts into a warm smile, Damocles considers that, yep, she is too damn observant for him to every have any privacy in his thoughts without her butting in and trying to distract him, and yet, the feeling of having someone just like her washes him clean in these small moments.

“First,” she states, poking him in the chest.  “You’re slow, Damo.”

Snorting, he pokes her back with a smile and purr.  “Fastest doorbell ringer in the West,” he says, adding a hint of the weird, twangy accent from human vids full of horse riding lawmen and training robbing bandits.  

“You’re darn tootin,’” she responds, breaking into a giggle when Damocles pokes her again and she tries to swat at his finger.  “Quit that!”

“You started it.”  He pokes her one last time just as he hears the sound of the door swishing open.

A turian easily older than even pop-pop stands at the door’s threshold, looking them over before his eyes warm, plates relaxing.  “I didn’t expect you two so soon,” he says, stepping back and waving a hand to enter.  “You’ll have to give me a bit to collect up the things your dad asked for.  Come in and relax.  Shouldn’t take too long.”  

As the door closes behind Damocles and his sister, Mr Taskis leads them through his neatly designed living room and down a short hall into a room made into his studio, a leather chair that reclines next to a small desk chair and rolling side table.  Pictures of what must be old tattoos and art line the walls and locked cabinets line the larger sidewall of the room.  The entire room smells faintly of antiseptic and cleaning products, and gives the feel of cleanliness among the seemingly disorganization of so many varying images and ideas of what Mr Taskis had painted into skin and plates.

“Wow,” Cassia says as she steps closer to a framed image of a gathering of vivid flowers on copper skin.  “These are beautiful.”

Mr Taskis stops a step from the locked cabinets and looks to her, ducking his head.  “Thank you, young Vakarian.”

“Do you do these on everyone?”  Damocles runs the tips of his talons on the glass of an image of some kind of orange and white fish jumping through illustrated waves.  

“If by everyone, you mean every species, then yes.”  Mr Taskis hums as he opens the cabinet and Damocles watches as he searches through what has to be hundreds of jars and bottles of every color imaginable.  He takes out two jars of blue that, to Damocles, look identical, but Mr Taskis examined each in the light, holding it up to let the overhead light shine through.  He hums in thought before lowering them and checking the label.  

“Here we go,” he says as he places one of the jars back in the cabinet and walks a counter along the other wall.  “Cobalt 11-8665.”  When he sees Damocles glancing his way, the older turian smiles with a soft thrum.  “Most aren’t as specific with insignia colors, but it’s in my nature and profession to be very insistent on staying to tradition.”

“How can you tell?”  Damocles follows Mr Taskis to the cabinets, watching as the man starts to examine jars of black paint.

Mr Taskis chuckles.  “Years and years of experience.”  He holds a black to the light, clicks in disapproval, and replaces it before tapping a talon on a few others with a considering hum.  “I’ve been doing this since I was a young child, learning from my mother.  Ater I finished my service, I stayed with the military as a civilian contractor, engraving recruits with their markings of choice while they stayed on the training grounds.”  He huffs a laugh, shaking his head and looking down to Damocles.  “Some kids liked to take extra time off when the military used to let them go off site to find their own artifex.  Instructors would often have to hunt them down to bring them back.”

Damocles chuckles, once doing something similar with his parents on a day that he just didn’t feel like training.  Dad tracked him down to the beach, and because dad was mad about having to wake up early to train, made Damocles perform his instruction in the wet sand.  That definitely made every movement much more difficult, even with dad training in it too right beside him, but Damocles hasn’t missed another morning session since.  Or, he at least didn’t warn his parents the night before that he wanted to sleep in or have some time to himself instead of train.  It seemed like they enjoyed those days more than he did.  Cassia too.

Fluttering his mandibles as Mr Taskis sets down the apparently correct black, Damocles lowers his voice and clears his throat to attract the older turian’s attention.  When he gets it, Damocles asks the question nagging at him since seeing the sign in the yard outside.  “Can you … give me a tattoo?”

“When the time comes, absolutely-”

“Right now?” Damocles asks, interruption Mr Taskis and stopping him in his tracks.  The question even gets Cassia’s attention as she looks at him with raised brow plates and her mouth slightly agape in surprise.

“Right now, right now?” she says, not letting Mr Taskis speak.  

When Damocles nods, the older man finally gets his chance to speak.  “You’re still under your parents’ care, but you can do whatever you want at fifteen.”

Shaking his head vehemently, Damocles huffs and squares his shoulders.  “Mom and dad don’t think like that.  They’d want me to choose for myself what I want.”  He glances his sister’s way and she rolls her eyes, crossing her arms but not contradicting him.  Good.  “And mom gets them all the time.  I can pay for them.”

Mr Taskis narrows his eyes and looks Damocles up and down.  “How old are you?”

Surprisingly, Cassia speaks on Damocles’ behalf.  “Fourteen.”  When both males turn to her, Mr Taskis with a skeptical look and Damocles in shock that she’s backing him up, she nods.  “We’re short for our age.”  She chuckles, flicking her mandibles in embarrassment.  “We got it from mom.”

The old turian glances down to Damocles and, as if for any contradiction, but Damocles nods instead, confident in Cassia’s lie.  Technically, he and his sister are short for their age.  Even with dad’s assurance that it’s not uncommon - and even known in his lineage - to be short until a miraculous growth spurt shoots them to an above average height, Damocles hates still being the height of other turians two years younger than him.

Mr Taskis sighs and turns to the cabinet once more.  “I actually trust your sister, so that makes you of age to choose and consent for yourself.  Let me get the rest of your dad’s list done before I get into your work and forget.”

Damocles grins and, when the man isn’t looking, throws a silent ‘thank you’ to his sister.  He knows this means he owes her big time, but he can’t deny that she seems to have an interested look on her face when she waves him over.  He gives Mr Taskis a final glance and walks over to her, unable to contain his giddy grin and chirps.  

“You better not get someone really bad,” she warns, her voice a whisper as she glares at him.

Damocles rumbles reassuringly and speaks normally.  “No, it’s not.  I’m going to get this,” he says, opening his omni-tool and pulling up the symbol all over his comics that stands for his favorites, the X-Men.

Cassia lifts a brow plate, and despite her exaggeratedly critical expression, he knows she recognizes the image.  “It’s just an ‘X’ in a red and yellow circle.”

Nodding, he thrums happily and lowers his tool while still having it activated do he can show Mr Taskis.  “On a blue background.”  He shrugs.  “There’s a lot of them in the comics, but I like this one best.”

“You’re a dork,” she says, but her smile and warm purr are the support he really wanted from her.  “I think it’ll look cool.  Where you getting it?”

Damocles hadn’t considered that.  Looking himself over, he hums in thought.  He can’t really get it anywhere where it’d be seen if he wore a short sleeved shirt because he has no idea what mom and dad would say.  He’s sure they wouldn’t care about what he gets so much as when he’s gotten it, and even then, he’s pretty confident they wouldn’t punish him too bad for it, just maybe for not clearing it with them first before doing it.  His parents are pretty damn laid back, not punishing him and his sister too bad unless they really fuck up, so Damocles figures they would be more frustrated at not being included than anything else.

They always say that they’d rather teach the bad and why not to do something than simply command it and punish when strict rules are followed without question.  That, and they wouldn’t expect Damocles and Cassia not to do something mom and dad have done before and punish them for it.  He’s heard his mom say something about the idea of ‘do as I say and not as I do’ shoving it before going to hell.  He’s sure that’s a human saying he hasn’t learned of yet, but can guess the gist of it well enough, and wholly agrees.  It’s a reason he loves his parents as much as he does, admires their lenient - yet instructional - way of raising Damocles and his sister.  He knows they put up with a lot with how Cassia and he entertain themselves and get into trouble.

Still doesn’t mean he wants to make it obvious that he got a tattoo by lying about his age to the artifex.  That would just be stupid.

“I think I’ll get it on my leg somewhere.”  He examines his leg.  “But where?”

“It’s a circle, right?”  Cassia crouches down and pokes his calf.  “Get it here.  That way you can always cover it with pants or boots and I don’t have to watch you get it without your pants on.”

Damocles laughs and nods, smirking at his sister when she rises to her feet.  “You didn't have to stay, you know.  I think it's pretty weird I have to pick somewhere so _you_ aren't uncomfortable.”

Snorting, Cassia smacks him in the chest.  “Like you'd want me gone.  Besides, you can show off better like this, just lift your pant leg.”

He hums, feigning consideration.  “It would be quite the hassle to have to take off my shoes,  _ then _ take off my pants just to show anyone.”  When she scoffs at his obvious attempt to make it sound like the placement was his idea all along, he grins and adds, “I have some pretty good ideas, don't I?”

“You're an ass,” she retorts with a matching playful grin.

“You wouldn't know what to do without me.”

“Not have an annoying twin brother?”  She laughs when he growls with feigned insult.  “ _ I _ think I'd rather have a twin sister.  Imagine how much better that'd be!”

Damocles snorts and lifts a brow plate, crossing his arms.  “Boring, more like.  I have all the fun ideas, and you know it.”

Rolling her eyes, she looks up when Mr Taskis as he approaches the two of them.  “I’ve gathered all your father’s supplies,” his green eyes flick between Cassia and Damocles.  “Your tattoo will take a while.  Expect to be here a few hours before it’ll be complete, but I can’t give you an exact until I see what you want.”

Damocles understands the cue and opens his tool to show the older turian his chosen image.  The man hums, deep in thought, as he tilts his head and leans closer to the screen to examine it.  Flicking his mandibles, be glances into Damocles’ eyes.  “And this is what you want?”

Damocles nods.  “With blue behind it.  On my calf.”

Mr Taskis sighs and crosses his arms.  “I’m still unconvinced of your ages, but I trust your sister more than you,” he says as he points his thumb over his shoulder to Cassia, “and I trust that your parents wouldn’t have taught you to lie about something permanent like this.  They obviously don’t care about it judging by your mother’s frequent visits, so I won’t get them involved.”  He growls and points at Damocles.  “If you’re lying to me, I’m not responsible.”

Damocles rumbles and nods once, straightening his stance.  “Yes, sir.  It’s my responsibility.”

Mr Taskis sighs before turning away and walking towards the lounging chair.  “Take a seat and get comfortable.  Take off your boot and roll up your pants.”

Suddenly realizing he hadn’t thought about what hides beneath his boot, Damocles hesitates.  Mr Taskis doesn’t notice, working between the cabinet and small rolling table as he retrieves and lays out supplies, but Cassia definitely picks up on the weighted pause.  She lifts her brow plates, crosses her arms, and cocks her hip, definitely well aware that there’s something he’s hiding.  Damocles’ vocals buzz in discomfort before he fidgets in the seat, but the sound only attracts Mr Taskis’ attention on top of Cassia’s.

“I can’t work if you’re still covered up,” the older man says, rumbling in expectation.  “I need to have plenty of room to work.  I won’t do this if I you won’t follow my instructions, I take pride in my work and won’t settle for what  _ you’re  _ comfortable with.”  He waves a hand at Damocles’ legs, voice stern.  “Now do as I say and show me the calf you want tattooed.”

Damocles swallows heavily and nods, reaching down to unbuckle his left boot.  It takes a rough tug to get it off around his bound toes, but he can’t breathe a sigh of relief at the lack of pressure when he sees his sister stand straighter to see.  He ducks his head at being caught with two of his toes bound to seem more normal, barely seeing Mr Taskis glance at his foot before moving away to gather more supplies.  Damocles does, however, see Cassia’s feet step into his view and feels her glare against his plates.

“Look at me,” she says softly, her voice low to keep between the two of them.  “Damo….”

Rumbling in embarrassment of being caught because he hadn’t thought about needing to reveal himself for this tattoo - but not because he’s ashamed of his binding - Damocles lifts his head high enough to look his sister’s way out of the corner of his eye.  He has to admit to being happy at not seeing disappointment or judgment in her eyes, but he  _ does  _ see fury written all over her face.  Stepping closer to him, she smacks the top of his head and he grunts.

“What was that for?”  He hisses softly and rubs his still growing crest.

“‘What was that for?’   _ What was that for? _ ”  She takes a deep breath, shoulders lifting and lowering as she closes her eyes.  When she opens them again, a calmness has cooled some of her anger as she quiets back to a tone barely above a whisper.  “I know why, and I won’t say not to, but would you  _ please  _ not hurt yourself?”  She frowns and leans closer to press her cheek to his.  “I don’t like seeing you hurt, Damo.”  Stepping back, she glances to Mr Taskis, who seems to be making himself busy for their benefit.  “Talk to me before you begin to hurt yourself, okay?”

Damocles keeps quiet at the times he tries to remove the nub of an extra toe on his inside of his lower leg - much like the extra toe Xero has on his front legs.  No matter how he’s tried, he could never manage to get it off because of a pesky little bone attaching it to his leg, but there are plenty of scars around it, visible enough if Cassia looked away from his toes.  He also tried to pry off plates from his extra digits, but those scars are mostly hidden at the edges of where plate meets hide.  Still, he nods in agreement to Cassia’s request, considering that maybe talking it over with her can stave away the urge to try and cut pieces of himself out or pry them off.  Apparently satisfied, his sister purrs and hugs him tightly, pressing her mouth plates to his cheek and making an exaggeratedly wet noise in a mock kiss.  He rubs at the spot with a grimace and gives her a soft glare, but she merely grins before stepping back.

Mr Taskis gives them a moment longer before returning with a tray of small cups of colors, a strange looking handheld machine with tubes attached to one end, a pump bottle, and paper towels.  “I’ll draw out a stencil on your hide to work off of.  Be still,” he says as he sits on the rolling chair and presses commands into Damocles’ chair controls, lowering Damocles into a lying position.  “Left calf, correct?”

Damocles nods, rumbling as he smiles at his sister.  “Yes, sir.”

Cassia smiles and looks to Mr Taskis as he grabs a marker from his supplies, leans forward, and begins to draw on Damocles’ calf.

“You’ll need to roll over during this,” the older man says as Damocles glances down to watch him freehand a perfect circle, adding the ‘X’ and smaller circles within.  It’s impressive to watch, the man obviously skilled in his work and confident after so many years.  “Are you ready?” he finally asks as he leans back and looks up.

Damocles nods, rumbling happily.  “Yes, sir.”

Mr Taskis smiles softly and turns to Cassia.  “Make sure no one is expecting you within the next few hours.”

Cassia nods and opens her omni-tool, stepping out of the room as Mr Taskis begins to plug the tubing of his machine into the large base of Damocles’ chair.  Once done, a sound of buzzing fills the room for a moment before Mr Taskis grunts and shuts it off.  Next, Damocles feels the cool chill of something across his hide before the older turian looks him in the eyes.

“Last chance to reconsider.”

“No, sir,” Damocles says, grinning as his body fills with energy and excitement.  “I’m ready.”

Mr Taskis hums, but the machine quickly drowns out the sound.  The first touch of the machine stings a bit, but doesn’t hurt badly enough for Damocles to worry about calling a stop before it can be complete.  Soon, though, that sting begins to build into a burn, his hide tingling with a sensation like touching a heatsink too soon from ejection.  He rumbles in confusion and glances down to see if anything is wrong.

“Feel it?” Mr Taskis asks without looking up from the thick black lines he’s writing into Damocles’ hide.

Damocles nods, but speaks in order to give the older turian an answer.  “Yes, sir.  Feels like a burning.”

“You’ll get used to it.  Just let me know when you need a break.”

“Yes, sir.”  Laying his head back, Damocles smiles up at the ceiling, actually enjoying the sensation for the result he’ll be left with.  What’s a little pain for a piece of his inner self on his skin for everyone to see?

Cassia returns sometime later and, at Mr Taskis’ instruction, leaves again and comes back with a chair.  She sits by Damocles and watches Mr Taskis with a fascinated glint to her eyes.  Occasionally, she will look down to Damocles and grin, nodding in encouragement or lean down and whisper about how cool it looks so far with excitement of her own.  After a time, she begins to talk about anything and everything, filling the hours with entertainment for both Damocles and Mr Taskis during the slow process of injecting ink into Damocles’ hide in a permanent image.

When the machine stops, Damocles feels a chill wash over the burning sensation in his hide and sits up on his elbows, gasping when he sees the crisp, vivid image as Mr Taskis wipes it down.  The older man chuckles, the sound full of proud vocals, and Damocles chirps and trills in joy, loving the final product.  He looks to his sister and sees her grin, bouncing on her toes and clasping her hands.

“It’s beautiful!”  She says and Damocles can merely nod, too happy to remember how to talk.

Mr Taskis rumbles in amusement before he smiles at Damocles.  “What do you think?”

The man scoots his chair back, lifting to his feet and offering a hand for Damocles to stand.  Damocles’ leg is a bit wobbly, but he manages to walk to the mirror on the wall and twists his leg to get a good look.  The red, yellow, blue, and black causes a warmth to spread through his chest and he lifts his head to see Mr Taskis watching him and nods emphatically.

“Thank you, so much, sir.  It’s incredible.  More than incredible.   _ Perfect _ ,” he says, purring as he drops his gaze to the mirror and stares, hypnotized.

Mr Taskis thrums happily and lays a hand on Damocles’ shoulder.  “Come on, let me show you how to care for it while it heals.”

Damocles pays a good portion of his savings on the tattoo, but the joy in having it outweighs the disappointment of now being broke.  The soreness has dulled to a mild annoyance beneath the bandage Mr Taskis put on his tattoo, but Damocles is confident that his walk and stance doesn’t reveal what’s hidden beneath.  Cassia even seems happy, and though he has no idea what she told mom and dad about why they took so long, he’s grateful for her support in it all.  She even talked non stop about it on their way home, swinging the bag of the supplies they initially went to the artifex for as she bounced.  Damocles knows he’s excited, but still laughs at how much  _ she  _ seems to have enjoyed their afternoon and early evening.

They’re quiet when they step inside the house and the smell of mom’s cooking washes over them the moment they close the door.  Damocles and Cassia both growl at the scent of their mom’s amazing cooking, Damocles suddenly very aware of his how little he has eaten and already halfway up the entryway stairs by the time Cassia has moved from the door.  She snorts and runs up the opposite stairs, pushing his side as she makes for a run towards the kitchen.

“There you are,” aunt Sol says from the couch, standing and chuckling at their urgency.  She’s wearing a really pretty dress and that artificial scent humans - and some asari - like to wear to make themselves smell strong enough for other less sensitive species to pick up on surrounds her.  Cologne, Damocles remembers, and distinctly notices how it smells a lot like uncle James, even though he was supposed to have left early this morning.  “I was just about to send your dad out to find you.”

“Hi, aunt Sol!”  Cassia chirps and drops the bag on the other couch before hugging their aunt.  “You smell pretty.”

Sol snorts and waves her hand.  “You can admit it, the scent is really strong, but I think James is getting better at not wearing so much.  I think it’s just habit, though.”  She chuckles and shrugs, stopping and turning towards the hall when they all hear footsteps coming.  “Garrus!  They’re here!”

“About time,” dad says as he steps into the living room carrying one of the smocks he wears when mom makes him try to paint.  He smiles at Damocles and Cassia as he sets them over the back of a couch.  “We’ll have to work on them either later tonight or tomorrow.”  Walking to them, he reaches down and riffles through the bag.  “I don’t know why he didn’t have everything in, but I’m happy he could mix it.  He’s always so particular, but whatever makes him happy, I won’t complain,” he says, chuckling as he motions to the dining room.  “Come on, you two.  Let’s make the table.”

Damocles glances Cassia’s way, their secret kept hidden so far, but her attention is on talking to Sol about her time with uncle James.  Following dad into the kitchen where mom cooks and pop-pop shuffles around making a cold vegetable dish sort of like human salad - obviously something like fusion cuisine he’s learned or taught himself.  He still seems a bit irritated, most likely mad about some other fight he and dad had, but doesn’t do anything besides make a point in avoiding any interaction with dad.  It’s actually pretty funny to see the two act like kids, making Damocles and Cassia seem like the adults in the house.  

Just as dad begins to stack up plates to take to the table, Xero comes bounding into the room, tongue hanging out and barking shrill yips of happiness.  Dad steps out of the way, avoiding Xero’s excited jump up, and pop-pop groans while mom lifts her steaming pan high over her head, but Damocles doesn’t move.  It’s just habit to accept attention from his varren, but when Xero stops to smell his legs, Damocles tenses up in anticipation, worry filling him.

“Could it be?”  Mom snorts as she sets down a large casserole dish full of sauced dextro meats mixed with noodles.  “Has Xero finally learned how not to greet people?”

“Uh … I guess so ….”

Dad glances to Damocles out of the corner of his eye as he gathers dishes from the cabinets, and Damocles hears him hum in that way that dad does that usually always ends in him finding out about something despite every attempt to lie.  Damocles quickly brushes the examination off as he grabs the plates and heads for the dining room and past his sister.  He feels the weight of dad’s stare on his back, but fights to act nonchalant, shushing and pushing Xero away from his leg before the varren touches his sore tattoo.  He doesn’t manage to get away for long before the others follow, Cassia and aunt Sol carrying glasses and utensils while dad brings in mom’s dextro dish, pop-pop his dish, and mom a smaller platter of levo food very similar to the other.  Dad still has that curious look on his face and Damocles knows it’s only a matter of time before he finds out.

An awkward silence fills the room as everyone looks between dad and Damocles, mom’s eye brow rising, Sol - ever the one to encourage Damocles and his sister no matter what - grinning, pop-pop narrowing his eyes in his own evaluation, and Cassia clearly avoiding everyone’s eyes.  Food lies untouched in the center of the table before mom makes a show of sighing, lifting her shoulders on a long inhale and dropping them as she tilts her head and exhales with a sound in her throat.  Sol rumbles under her breath, trying to cover her amusement, and Damocles makes a point in looking away from dad, rearranging his utensils.

“Why  _ exactly _ did you decide to wait at the artifex while he mixed the colors?” dad asks, lifting his hands to thread his fingers beneath his chin.  “You aren’t usually ones to sit around and do nothing, and there certainly wasn’t anything to do around the residential district.  Did you give him your omni-tool address so he could contact you so you could head to a different district?”

“Of course,” Damocles says, shrugging.  “Cassia and I went to the beach.”

“Did you go swimming?”  Now pop-pop is starting to get suspicious and Damocles nods, keeping his expression relaxed.

Unfortunately, mom gets into the conversation and looks to Cassia.  “Do you need me to wash the salt out of your clothes, then?”  She huffs a laugh.  “Because I’d rather not get sand and salt all over the rest of our clothes.”

“Uh huh.”  Cassia pointedly avoids everyone’s eyes and Damocles inwardly curses at his sister’s flaw of not wanting to lie to family unless it benefits them.  Not that this wouldn’t benefit Damocles, but he has a very good concern that she might not be able to keep quiet about something as trivial as a tattoo unless Damocles’ life depended on it.

“Uh.  Huh,” mom repeats before looking to aunt Sol.  “Sol?  Would you like some food?”

“Yes, please.”  Sol smiles, looking at Damocles out of the corner of her eye as her mandibles flutter in barely contained amusement.  “That’d be great.  Dad?  Garrus?”

“Cassia,” dad finally says, dropping his hands to the table as he addresses Cassia directly.  The look might as well be Damocles’ death sentence.  “What did you two  _ really  _ do during all that time at the artifex?”

“I … Uh,” Cassia starts, glancing to Damocles with a plea in her eyes.  “We ….”

Sighing, Damocles saves her and looks to dad.  “I got a tattoo.”

“ _ What _ ?” pop-pop hisses and Sol snickers, going quiet when he looks at her in scolding, yet still grinning when he looks away.  “Damocles, explain.”

Dad growls and looks to his dad across the table.  “I highly doubt you have any right to demand answers from him when his mother and I are sitting right here.  That’s overstepping boundaries, don’t you think?”

Mom puts an elbow on the table and rests her cheek in her palm as she snorts.  “Oh, boy, here we go-”

“Are you really going to disagree with me about this?  You really want to approve just to prove you’ll go against anything I say, even when I’m being logical?”  Pop-pop shakes his head once, his expression stern.  “Fine, Garrus.  Show me how  _ you _ would discipline your children.”

Dad growls under his breath, glaring at pop-pop before he turns to Damocles.  “What did you get and where?”

“I got an X-Men tattoo on my calf,” he says, voice gradually building from a whisper to a confident rumble.  He won’t be embarrassed.  He loves his new tattoo and he won’t deny or regret it no matter his punishment.  “On my calf.”

“A  _ what? _ ”  Pop-pop trills in confusion, but dad relaxes some.

“Did you pay the artifex what he was due?” dad asks, humming and pointedly avoiding pop-pop’s gaze.  “Out of your own credits?”

“Yes,” Damocles says, nodding.  “It was all my own credits from when I help around the compound.  I didn’t even ask Cassia for any of hers.  I only used the credits you gave us for the paints you ordered.”

Dad nods once as mom leans closer.  “Did he tell you how to care for it?”  She smiles when Damocles nods.  “Good.  I expect you to follow that to the letter.”

“You can’t possibly think this is okay behavior-”

“Oh, it’s not,” dad interrupts and Damocles flinches.  “We should have been consulted first, but what’s done is done.  Damocles can’t go back on it.”  Dad looks to Damocles and lowers his brows, pulling his mandibles to his jaw and shifting his vocals into his authoritative thrum.  “We could have approved if you had only asked, but because you didn’t, you will be given a proper punishment.  You need to learn to get permission for things while you’re still young, Damocles.”  Sighing, dad relaxes and huffs a laugh.  “At least you didn’t get something worse.   _ That  _ sort of thing will definitely wait until you’re an adult.”

“Yes, sir,” Damocles says, dipping his head once in apology, but dad waves it off.

“None of that.  Out of all the things you could’ve done, this is far from the worst.”  Motioning everyone to start setting their plates with food, he says, “You’ll go to Taskis’ and help him around his shop for the next two months without pay.  Should you two of you choose to actually continue the work and he actually pay you, then that’s okay, but this punishment comes with no credits.  I’ll even tell him not to pay you.  Understand?”

Damocles nods, purring.  “That’s fair.”  

Hell, it might even be fun.


	25. Slumber Party 7/2198

Excitement fills Cassia, making her fidget and trill anxiously.  She thinks she’s planned for everything for her sleepover tonight, this being the first time she’s ever had  _ all _ her friends over at once.  She still can’t believe she convinced mom and dad, always thinking they were more likely to let her go to another’s house than have so many kids over at once with just the two of them as the adults.  If there was anything Cassia knew about her parents - especially dad - it was that they often imagined the worse to happen to the house when they were outnumbered by kids.  Granted, after all the trouble Cassia and her brother - still - get into, it’s a reasonable concern.

Restacking her magazines, each personality quiz marked in every issue to find easier, Cassia jumps with a yelp when the sound of the doorbell echoes through the house.  She’s been waiting all day for it, but the loud chime still surprises her when it cuts into her train of anxious thoughts and she knocks over her neat stack of magazines.

“Crap,” she curses under her breath, but quickly abandons any chance to reorganize everything when another - almost annoyed - ring fills the house again.  Mom and dad most likely want her to answer it seeing as how it’s bound to be her friends ringing the bell instead of any unannounced visitors this late into the day.  “Coming!”

Running out of her room, rounding the corner, and hopping down the stairs two at a time, Cassia nearly crashes into her brother as he heads for the door.  She grunts at his body in her way and pushes at him, growling in frustration when she  _ knows  _ he’s making an extra effort to get in her way.

“Move it!”  She bounces on her feet to see over his shoulder and keeps trying to butt her elbow into his side.  “Damo!”

He trills and looks back at her.  “Oh, Cass.  When did you get here?”

“Move.  It.”  She narrows her eyes at his feigned surprise.  “You know I’ve been here this whole time.  Now let me answer the door!”

Shoving with the flat of her hands, she pushes on him enough to get him to step aside, though not without hearing an earful of his own laughter.  Spirits, does she wish he’d hurry up and go to someone’s house or something instead of watching vids in the living room, where he can always bother her and her friends right as they come in or head to the kitchen for snacks.  At least with him gone to spend time with his ‘friends,’ Cassia doesn’t have to deal with his stubborn teasing.

She rushes to the door and jerks it open, grinning when she sees her first guest of the evening, Mimi Nelson.  Mahogany hair pulled into a braid and already dressed in her loose pajamas, the shorter girl grins and nearly drops her pillow as she and Cassia hug tightly.  Stepping back after a big squeeze, Cassia smiles and purrs as she waves Mimi inside, happy that the girl’s mom was confident enough to let her walk over on her own.

“We’ll take that to my room,” she says as she leads towards the stairs and up.  “I’m so excited!”  She grips her hands together and chirps, turning back to walk backwards once the two of them reach the top of the stairs.  “I got movies, and music, and lots of quizzes we can take.  Oh!  And food.   _ Lots  _ of junk food.”  Cassia growls as she glances towards the banister and living room below.  “I even hid it from my stupid brother.”

Mimi wrinkled her nose up at his mention. “Is he still treating his bedroom like a one-man brothel?”

Snorting, Cassia nods and lets Mimi step into her room first.  The lights are off except for her lamp, throwing the room into a dimmer, more comfortable atmosphere that’ll still allow them to read when the sun goes down, but not be kept up when they begin to tire.  “Of course.  But mom and dad made him leave if he’s going to be doing any of … that tonight.”  She smiles and pats her bed.  “You can put your pillow up here.  We’ll make beds later.”

“Awesome!” Mimi throws her well squished pillow onto the purple comforter of Cassia’s well made bed. “And no boys allowed tonight,” she shoots Cassia a toothy grin, before noticing the spilled pile of magazines littering the floor. Seizing the top issue, she quickly begins flipping through the pages in ‘Steller Girl’ until she reaches the article she searches it for. 

“Did you see the story they did on Brutus Apatio? The super hot Clawball player?” She asks, turning the magazine to present Cassia with a topless photo of the brown plated, blue eyed turian.  Cassia can tell why the words ‘Well Toned Heart-Throb’ span the top of the spread in bright colors to catch the attention.  

She has to admit that she agree wholeheartedly with Mimi.  Brutus is gorgeous with his toned, lithe form and flawlessly polished plates.  Even his cream colony paints swirling over his eyes and sweeping down his crest pop against his eyes and plates.

Cassia thrums at the man’s picture and takes the magazine, grinning at her friend.  “I like his waist the most.  Look how tiny it is!”

“He likes reading biographies and playing with his pet varren,” Mimi says, leaning over Cassia’s shoulder to read the article and interview within. She sighs wistfully.  “A man who loves reading and pets? He’s the whole package.”

Cassia trills as she daydreams before blinking in surprise at that.  “Well, let’s say ‘reading  _ biographies _ ,’ because I don’t really want to be thinking about boys who just read any kind of thing.”  She pokes out her tongue, knowing her brother likes comics and  _ loves  _ varren.  It’s bad enough Alexia has a bit of a crush on him, so Cassia would rather not give the girl chance to compare if Brutus comes back up once everyone is here.

“Who else is coming over tonight?” Mimi asks as she bends down to look through the rest of the magazines. 

Cassia hums as she helps to gather up magazines once Mimi checks the cover, decides it’s not what she wants, and hands it over.  “Gelta and Alexia are coming over too.”  As if called, the bell chimes and Cassia drops the pile on the side table.  “That’s probably them.  Finally!”  She rushes to the door and stops, looking back to Mimi.  “If my brother comes up, just yell at him or throw something.”  She snorts and adds, “He’ll probably deserve it.”

Leaving Mimi to go through the magazines and make some kind of organization of the pile, Cassia takes the steps two at a time again and runs in front of her brother with a glare.  He grins and holds his hands up in mock defeat before leaving once more, but Cassia knows this won’t be the end of it.  She doesn’t worry, though, she’s sure she and her friends will be prepared.  If only she can keep Alexia from making herself look foolish by ogling Damo.  The rest of them will have to remind her how much of an ass he is before she goes and lets him know of her crush.

He’d never let them forget that.

Pulling open the door, Cassia smiles at Gelta and Alexia both giggling and chatting on the porch, also clad in their pjs.  She trills when they both grin and rush into the house for hugs, the three of them squeezing tightly even with pillows and backpacks full of more things to do and clothes for tomorrow.

“We’re all here,” Cassia says more to herself than the others as she jerks her head to come in.  “I’ll make some popcorn, but you can go up.  Mimi’s already here.”

The two girls’ grins brighten as they rush up one set of stairs each so they don’t bump into and slow each other down.  Cassia giggles at their shared excitement, happy that she isn’t the only one really looking forward to tonight once it finally gets started.  Now she just needs to get their snack supply started.  Going into the kitchen, she growls at her brother having found her stash, a knowing rumble in his vocals as he makes a show of digging through her things.

“Mom and dad got those for me,” she says, walking over and jerking a big box of chocolates out of his hands, but he seems unconcerned when he chuckles and turns back to the cabinet for something else.

“Strange … I don’t see your name on anything.”  He grunts when she ignores him and pokes him in the waist with her talon.

“Move.”  Huffing, she uses her hands to push him away from the cabinet and to the other side of the kitchen, far away from her food.  “Go find your own snacks.  There’s plenty around the house somewhere.”

Damo shrugs and goes to the fridge, grabbing a Tupari.  “Just thought you’d share.  Didn’t know you were hoarding it like the universe’s ending.”  He leans a hip on the counter to watch as she sets a bag of popcorn in the microwave oven.  “Besides, you can’t eat everything.”

Cassia smirks and lifts a brow plate.  “Oh?  Watch us.”

Damo rolls his eyes as he pops open the bottle of his drink, but doesn’t move when Cassia tries to grab the door to the cabinets right below his hip to get to the bowl.  She sighs, asking, “Do you  _ have  _ to be such a pest tonight?”

Damo hums, mouth plates to the lip of his bottle.  “No … but that’s boring.”

“Why don’t you go find someone to … you know ….”  Cassia waves her hand, not really wanting to say it.

“Have sex with?” he says, grinning at her obvious discomfort.  “You can say it, you know.”

“I don’t  _ want  _ to,” she explains with an eye roll and annoyed mandible flick, thankful when the microwave pings in completion.  “Finally.”  She huffs in relief before snatching the bag up, ripping it open, and dumping it into the bowl.  A few pieces miss the bowl, but she knows Xero will be right on the case as soon as he gets up of his lazy butt to look for where Damo has gone.

“What?  Not picking that up?”  Damo points to the floor as Cassia passes, but she ignores him.

“Xero will get it,” she says as she rounds the corner and starts up the stairs.

“You’re making my varren fat!”

She ignores his shout, knowing full well that varren is, if anything, definitely  _ not  _ fat with how much Damo plays with him out on the beach or includes the varren in some kind of training.  Making her way back to her room, she finds that the others have already thrown on a movie - one of Cassia’s favorite musicals about a princess rescuing herself from her own prison and teaching the princes how to fight.  Grinning at the obvious decision and how much her friends really know her, Cassia sets the bowl down between them all sitting on the pillows she brought up earlier and set on the floor before taking a seat in the open space of their circle.

“Look what Alexia brought from home,” Gelta says, passing Cassia a large, pale green bag. Inside the bag are colorful, small jars of different colored paints, an entire rainbow of shades and hues.

“It’s nail polish,” Alexia says happily, leaning over to reach inside the bag, and searches around the bottles, the glass jars clicking before she fetches one with swirling purple and silver. “We can do manicures while we watch our movie.”

Cassia thrums excitedly, admiring the beautiful polish named ‘Aurora Purple’ and imagining how shiny it will look on her five small talons.  She’s never really thought to ask about it when her mom has the occasional color that usually only lasts a few hours before the paint cracks and mom curses it all, just removing the color with a foul smelling chemical.  Seeing the colors now, though, Cassia just may have to learn how to keep the paints in tact, the idea of expressing herself with color on her talons just too good to pass up.

As the bag makes its way around the circle for each girl to choose their color, Mimi sets her chosen color on the floor beside her as she scoots to look at Gelta.  “I can do yours Gelta, if you do mine next,” she says, holding out her hands with palms up in offering.

“Sure!” Gelta eagerly hands Mimi the bottle of bright pink nail polish and holds her hands out to be painted.  Mimi shakes the bottle, it making a small clicking, before twisting off the top and wiping the small brush on the lip of the bottle to get rid of excess paint.  She takes one of Gelta’s hands in hers and immediately sets to work painting with a practiced hand. 

“I’ll do yours Cassia” Alexia’s voice pulls Cassia out of her concentrated gaze on the little brush leaving a bright pink in its wake, and she chirps in both surprise and anticipation as she offers the younger girl her hand. 

It isn’t long, silence not even settling on the group, before the sound of the movie is drowned out by Mimi speaking.  “Have you guys seen the newest kid in class?”  She smiles and her eyes brighten.  “Tigran Gables?”

Cassia chuckles as Gelta rolls her eyes, mumbling, “Surprise, surprise,” teasingly.

Mimi scoffs and rolls her own eyes.  “I just love how his eyes can look brown one minute, and green the next.”  She smirks and bites her lip, lowering her voice as she looks up from her work.  “And have you seen his abs?  He must  _ live  _ at the gym.”

Alexia doesn’t respond, obviously disagreeing of the assessment, and that only makes Cassia thrum louder in amusement as Gelta waves her free hand.  “Sure, he’s pretty good looking….  But Kamala D’misa has the most graceful body  _ I’ve  _ ever seen. She goes to dance classes with your mom, right, Mimi?”

Mimi nods, nod looking up from switching her attention to Gelta’s other hand.  “What about you, Alexia?  I bet you think someone else is cute from school”

Cassia cringes, hoping Alexia has found someone else to make goo-goo eyes at since the last time the two of them talked, but her hopes are dashed when Alexia blushes slightly and bites her lower lip.  She looks up to Cassia, guilt almost flickering over her eyes if not for the obvious joy at being asked.  “I think Damocles is really handsome.”

Cassia groans, thankful when Mimi steps in before she has to.  “Ew,” she says, drawing out the word as she wrinkles her nose, “Damo?”  She sniffs and shakes her head. “He’s gross! He makes a big show every time he burps and is constantly making rude noises under his breath in class. You don’t think he’s cute!”

“He has really pretty eyes,” Alexia defends and Cassia, Gelta, and Mimi all share a exasperated look. “And he’s not always gross, he can be really nice sometimes. He’s even walked me home a few times from school.”

“He’s kinda sluty,” Gelta says, casting a dubious look to Cassia and she shrugs, not one to actually deny the truth of the matter.  Damo does sleep around with a lot of people, a lot of the time, even if Cassia knows there is a deeper reason than just ‘easing stress,’ “I heard he slept with Nero Agustan last week, and Sasha Banks the week after.”

“Yea.” Mimi shakes her head once more before returning to her work. “No, Damo is annoying and gross, not cute.” An air of finality fills her tone, and Cassia hopes it’ll be the end of the matter, but Alexia is nothing if not determined - just like her own mom. 

Cassia clears her throat to distract Alexia from her defiant glaring in Mimi’s direction.  “Let’s make a deal  _ not  _ to talk about anyone in the house?  Please?” she asks the group, glancing sideways at Alexia.

“You guys asked.”  Alexia pouts her lips as she strokes the purple over the talon on Cassia’s ring finger.

“New topic,” Mimi says, enough of an agreement to the request. “If you could travel anywhere in the galaxy, where would you go and why?” 

“I’d visit the Citadel.” Gelta’s voice contains a dreamy quality as she smiles and looks at the big picture on Cassia’s wall from ‘Fleet and Flotilla’ where the characters announce their shared love overlooking the fancy Presidium. “It’s supposed to be even more beautiful after the repairs and restoration. And there’s shops and food from every single race! I don’t even know what I’d do first, but if I ever got the opportunity, that’s where I’d want to go.”

Cassia has never been to the Citadel, but has heard the same from vids and other children whose families often take trips off of Virmire.  Going to the massive station is just too dangerous for her own family with so many governments looking for Cassia’s parents, treating them like criminals.  At least on Palaven, they have their dad’s friend, the Primarch, supporting their visit and not telling everyone they’re all supposed to be arrested.  Cassia just wishes there were more people out there who agreed.

“Well,  _ I’d  _ go to Thessia,” Alexia says, moving her attention to finishing up Cassia’s other hand.  It seems like she needs more coats for Cassia’s talons, but she figures the polish just isn’t as thick as her face paints.  That makes her wonder just how it’d be if she brought the paints as the nail polish next time to a slumber party.

“I love how beautiful Thessia looks in the vids and pictures.  I heard they rebuilt it better and more beautiful than before.”  Alexia holds Cassia’s hand up to examine it with a smile.  “What about you, Mimi?”

“I’d go back to Earth,” Mimi answers with a slight frown to her features. “My dad was from a country called France. It’s supposed to be one of the ‘jewel cities’ of Earth. Pristine waterways, gorgeous art, and amazing baked goods. It’d be kinda nice to see where he was from.”

Mimi once told Cassia what little she could about her father, and even that was all learned from her own mother’s tales.  The same age as Cassia during the war, Mimi doesn’t have memories of him before he was killed during the fight against the Reapers.  Cassia knows enough from her own parents and their occasional episodes of PTSD that it’s best not to dwell on those lost to the war. 

Cassia rumbles soothingly to her friend. “If you let me, I’d go with you, Mimi.”  She smiles when her friends look to her curiously and she shrugs, smile spreading over her mandibles.  “Mom and dad don’t like Earth - or - they don’t like the Alliance, so they don’t go to Earth.  But I want to see the planet my mom grew up on, even though she doesn’t tell me  _ where  _ on Earth she grew up.”

Mimi smiles and nods her head once, a warm light returning to her eyes at the idea. “That’d be fun.”

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Alexia cut in, holding out a vial of gold nail polish to Cassia to paint on her nails. “I heard that’s what the older girls play at their sleep overs.”

“How do you play that?” Gelta asks, pausing in her work of painting Mimi’s nails an iridescent green. 

“I know this game,” Cassia says as she paints a steady streak of gold down Alexia’s first nail.  “You choose one.  Truth means you have to say whether or not something is true when everyone else asks, and dare means you have to do what they tell you to do.  Like … ‘I dare you to color your hair’ or ‘Is it true you like so-and-so.’”  She glances to Alexia and asks, “Right?”

“Right!” Alexia grins, bouncing lightly in excitement. “Who wants to go first?”

Mimi volunteers, glancing up from where Gelta holds her hand and paints over her short pinky nail. “I will.” 

“Okay, truth or dare, Mimi?” Alexia asks and all of them stop to look up to her, Cassia and Gelta out of curiosity of this game and Alexia with a giddy smirk. 

“Hmmm, truth,” Mimi responds, waving her hand in the air to dry the polish on her nails faster. 

“Is it true that you kissed Tiberius Ramous?” 

Mimi flushed a bright red before grinning, apparently proud of herself. “I french kissed him. It was pretty fun, too.”

The rest of the girls squealed with laughter and Gelta sits up on her knees, obviously comfortable enough with how the game will work.  “I wanna go next!  I choose truth too.”

“Is it true that you wear your brother’s underwear to bed?” Mimi grins mischievously, making Gelta’s eyes widen. 

“Where’d you hear that!?” Gelta demanded, jutting out her bottom lip as she narrows her eyes. 

“So it  _ is _ true,” Alexia says conspiritally and Mimi tips over laughing. 

“They’re comfortable and baggy. I wear them as sleep pants, sometimes. Don’t tell him!”  Gelta flushes a shade darker and pulls her lips into a tight line.  “And I don’t wear ones he’s used!  Ew!  I only get the new ones!”

Cassia snorts and giggles, cutting off the sound with an innocent smile.  “I believe you,” she says, biting back her giddy chirps and struggling to hold her mandibles still.  She understands the concept of wearing the bigger clothes.  She sees mom do it plenty of times with dad’s shirts, claiming they’re more comfortable than any human clothes.

“Alright, then you do it,” Gelta says with a slight pout, but Cassia knows her well enough that she isn’t too worried of the girl being mad at her.

“Alright, alright.”  Cassia hums in thought, tilting her head as she closes the gold paint.  “How about dare?”

“Hmmm.” Gelta hums and looks around to the other girls before coming up with a dare. “I dare you to… make out with this magazine cover!” Gelta holds up the photo of human actor and singer Emilio Murillo, lips faux puckered already as he graces the cover of a Hollywood themed magazine with a glossy picture.

Cassia holds it at arm’s length, nose wrinkled up until Alexia giggles and adds, “And you can’t just press your mouth, that doesn’t count because you don’t have lips.”

“I’m not licking a magazine,” Cassia protests, pretty sure the taste will be worse than the embarrassment.  Why did she chose dare again?

“That’s the dare!” Alexia says, pointing a finger at her with a grin. “If you don’t do it, than you have to go out in the living room in front of your parents and run around flapping your arms and screaming ‘the sky is falling!’ without giving them an explanation.”

The other girls laugh and Cassia grunts at the mental image of that.  She’d rather not make herself look ridiculous in front of her parents - and  _ especially  _ not in front of Damo.  Sighing, she takes the magazine and opens her mouth, sticking out her tongue.  She doesn’t really know  _ how  _ to kiss, but she’s seen it in movies.  Granted, most of the pretty actors weren’t kissing a flat surface like a weirdo.  Swiping her tongue over the picture’s lips, she hears the others giggle and snicker, and her mandibles flick in embarrassment.  She gives one more lick before pulling it away.

“There.” She grunts before sticking her tongue out, the taste of magazine not too appealing.  She grabs some popcorn to cover the taste, happy to see that her nail polish doesn’t smear with the buttery food.

“Your turn, Alexia.  Truth or dare,” Mimi says as she reaches for her own handful of popcorn, she and Gelta bumping hands and giggling.

Alexia swallows her bite and bounces on her butt.  “Dare!” 

A wicked grin curves Mimi’s face as she glances to Cassia. “I dare you to go downstairs, walk up to that gross pig Damo, and kiss him on the mouth!”

“Nonononono,” Cassia chants, shaking her head as her vocals rumble in disgust.  “Nono ….”  She sees Alexia blush and grin in excitement.  “ _ No _ .”

“Do it!” Gelta cheers. Soon, Mimi joins in on a chorus of “do it! Do it!”

When Alexia nods and stands up, Cassia groans and covers her face with her hands.  “This can’t be happening….”

Alexia can’t seem to get out of the bedroom fast enough, and what’s worse, Gelta pulls Cassia to her feet as the other two girls pull her to the railing of the upstairs to watch from above.  Cassia, unable to look away in hopes that maybe her brother will be surprised - maybe even thrown off balance - by the kiss, looks between her fingers as Alexia moves to the living room before hesitating.  Gelta and Mimi whisper and giggle to each other as Alexia blushes and plays with the hem of her pajama shirt before nodding her head and closing the gap.  Cassia knows Damo hears her, but he doesn’t respond up until Alexia stands in his way for the vidscreen and, just as he moves to ask why, grabs his face and presses a wet smooch to his mouth plates.

Gelta and Mimi burst into laughter as Alexia blushes brighter and quickly runs away from a stunned Damo.  Cassia takes a bit of joy in the confused look on his face, and lets herself giggle at finally knocking him off his high horse.  Watching him glare up at them, she smirks and pokes out her tongue up until Alexia rushes into the bedroom with her head down in embarrassment.  She and the other two girls follow Alexia into the room, laughing and hiccuping at the scene, but at least Alexia wears a giddy grin on her lips.

Maybe the fact that her brother just got attention even during a girls only night is okay when it happened this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to Wafflesrock for the help! I apparently have no idea what happens at slumber parties, lol.


	26. Saren 9/2199

Alexia groans as she flips her textbook closed with a finality that speaks volumes towards how much more productivity Cassia will be getting out of her young friend.  She had hoped for more than the bare minimum of the assignments done, but her weakness was in being a better friend than tutor.  That, and she knew nothing short of bribery would get Alexia to finish the extra portion of her Earthen-North American history assignments.

When Alexia pushes the heavy textbook across her dining room table, Cassia rumbles in amusement.  The sound attracts Alexia’s attention and looks over, seeing Cassia’s knowing smile.

“What?”  Alexia’s brow furrows as she narrows her eyes.  “You can’t really expect me to sit here and  _ enjoy _ learning all about the presidents of the United States.  There’s, like,  _ a hundred  _ of them!”

“Ninety-one, actually,” Cassia corrects, giggling when Alexia gives her a deadly glare.  “Okay, okay.  We don’t have to keep going with them.  What about working on the Second World War?”

The girl gives a stern shake of her head, holding a hand up between herself and the assignment Cassia tries to hand over.  “No way ….  That’s extra credit, so I’m not doing it.”  She shakes her head again when Cassia gives her a glare of her own, mandibles pulled tightly to her jaw.  “ _ No _ .  What use will Earth history even be to me?  No,” she reinstates, “I’m fine with xenobiology, mathematics, and xenolinguistics.  I don’t need to remember history or geography when I’m out there patching you and your brother up after battle.”

Cassia rolls her eyes and sets the pamphlet of extra work that’ll give Alexia a greater overall score for the subject in school.  “Fine.   _ But _ ,” she says, holding up a finger to get her point across, “If your class average drops, you’re doing extra credit assignments from now on.”

She leaves no room for protest as she tightens her mandibles and thrums with authority, and Alexia sighs, nodding.  “Alright, alright.  Jeez, I have a solid B.”

“It could always be an A,” Cassia sing songs, closing the textbook they were using to quizz Alexia on her sciences earlier.

“Yeah, yeah.”  Still, Alexia smiles and pushes her seat back from the table.  “Come on, it’s time to do something that’s actually fun.”

Snorting, Cassia follows behind Alexia into the kitchen to grab something to drink, maybe even a snack in reward for getting through this tutoring session.  As much as she loves her friend, Alexia can be quite difficult to work with and get to pay attention when working on subjects she despises.  She’s very much like Damocles in that aspect, but, with her brother, Cassia often has to practically wrestle him back into paying attention.  That, or he’ll just tone her out.  He’s way too good at that and not even mom and dad can make him stop.  It’s pretty annoying at times can he can make himself so dense, but she isn’t too surprised with how distant he’s becoming.  Mom likes to joke that he’s ‘going through the rebellious teenager stage,’ but Cassia knows him better.  More things are starting to upset him, and his way of dealing with it is shutting down and closing off.

“Hey,” Alexia says, pulling Cassia out of her thoughts as she hands over a bottle of tupari.  “Want to see what I’m working on with mom?”

Taking a drink, Cassia nods before swallowing some of the slightly sour, fruit juice.  “Sure.  What is it?”

Instead of explaining, the girl shakes her head and jerks her head for Cassia to follow.  Wearing a devious grin, Alexia leads Cassia into aunt Miranda’s lab beneath the home.  The large space is kept colder than the rest of the house, the lack of windows to let in the sun and insulating ground encasing it making the lab slightly uncomfortable, but apparently the perfect condition for many of Miranda’s experiments and work.  While not necessarily locked, Cassia knows the lab isn’t a place for visitors without her aunt’s guidance and watchful eye, but curiosity powers her legs as she happily follows her friend down the steps.

“Are you going to tell me, or just surprise me?”  Cassia chuckles when the smaller girl looks over her shoulder and shakes her head.  “You’re such a tease.”

Alexia snorts.  “You know it.”  Pulling Cassia into one of the lab’s rooms - one Cassia has come to realize is Alexia’s designated work space - Alexia stops at a cage with a little bird within, it’s feathers a mix of blues and greens and long tail that curls beneath the perch as it rests.  

Cassia stops and looks at the bird with a confused rumble before dropping her eyes to Alexia, a brow plate lifted in question.  “It’s a bird, Alexia.  There’s tons of them outside.”

Snorting as she rolls her eyes, Alexia turns to the cage and opens it, making Cassia tense with experience of the little things and how they love to fly extremely close to people when surprised and scared.  One too many times, Cassia had one fly into her because the poor little things seem to panic so much they lose control of themselves before quickly righting themselves and flying away.  As much as she hates to admit it when looking back, it was a fun game to sneak up on a flock and scare them just to watch the little birds scramble in all directions, and they often tried to catch one or two.  Sure, they’d always let the birds go, but she still felt guilty for stressing the innocent little things for her own enjoyment.

“Don’t freak out,” Alexia says, obviously aware of Cassia’s readiness to be assaulted by a confused little bird.  Reaching in, she cups her hands around the now chirping bird and gently pulls it out.  “Mom and I found it outside.  Someone’s stupid cat had gotten it and it had a broken wing.”  She smiles as she holds the bird in one hand, it’s head supported between her index and middle fingers, and gently spreads out one of the delicate wings to reveal an unnatural shimmering along the upper section where the bones of the limb are.  “See?  We used a cybernetic weave as a flexible cast.  It can still fly even with a broken wing.”  She offers the little creature in a way that doesn’t really give Cassia any opportunity to refuse.  “Sure, you can still break it if you try to bend it unnaturally.”

Cassia hums as she lets the bird hop around in her palm, smiling as she glances up to her friend.  “Can you use this stuff on people?”

Alexia twists her lips to the side and shakes her head.  “No.  Mom had to start from pretty much scratch since she said the last stuff used to come from Cerberus before your mom and dad found their big base, but she still has some of the information.  She hasn’t found a way to make it where it can support the weight a person can put bones, but she’s trying.”  She smiles and looks down to the bird.  “I can’t wait to see how it is when we can finally take off the weave.”

“Cool.”  Cassia hands over the tiny bird before looking around the lab.  “Your mom always seems to be working on something or another.”

“Yeah.”  The sound of chirping and a door closing is heard behind Cassia as she walks around the room, curiously looking over papers and datapads set in orderly table top files.  “Hey, you wanna see something  _ really  _ cool?”

That definitely sounds like something interesting and Cassia trills, turning back to her grinning friend.  “Yes!”

Alexia’s eyes glint with excited mischief and she waves her hand in ‘come on,’ leading the way out and into another room.  This one is filled wall to wall with computers and tech, monitors actively charting out readings Cassia has no idea of the meaning.  She doesn’t really care to ask when what  _ really  _ has her attention is standing right there in the middle of the room.

Aunt Miranda has a  _ actual  _ live tank and, even more exciting, a real turian asleep within.

“Holy crap,” she whispers as she walks to it, eyes searching the blank features of the male within.  “Is he a clone?”  She kind of knows the answer, recognizing the source of the genetics immediately in the white coloring and long lateral fringes.

“Uh huh.”  Alexia’s presence steps beside Cassia.  “He’s a clone of Arcanus.  Can’t you tell?” she asks, incredulousness in her voice.

Cassia nods.  “Yeah, I could, but just wanted to be sure.”  Tilting her head to get a better look, she rumbles.  “He looks different too, though.”

Alexia scoffs.  “He’s  _ a clone _ , Cassia.  So, yes, he  _ is  _ the same.”  

Cassia hums at the slightly arrogant tone to her friend’s voice, but just shakes her head before saying, “I know Kunkle, and he’s different.”

“Besides being older than the clone?”

“ _ Besides  _ that,” Cassia states, glaring down at Alexia.

“Oh yeah?”  Alexia lifts a black brown and crosses her arms.  “Tell them how, then?  And not the obvious age stuff.”

Looking back to the tank’s occupant, Cassia steps closer with a rumble in thought.  “He’s paler.  And his face is slightly thinner.  His waist too-”

Alexia laughs and shoves Cassia, making her catch herself on the tank.  “You and waists!”  Seeing Cassia’s narrowed eyes, she rolls her eyes.  “There’s no difference, Cassia.  Hence ‘clone.’”  She smirks.  “You just don’t want to imagine your uncle being young … and naked,” she adds with a point to the turian in the tank.

Straightening herself up off the tank, Cassia frowns at the tank interface now being in the way of seeing the whole of the turian.  He really does look different, even if he’s just a clone.  “Turians don’t show anything unless unplated, Alexia.”  She snorts and looks down to her friend.  “Besides,  _ you’re  _ the one looking at him down there.  I wasn’t even looking.”

Alexia rolls her eyes, obviously unconvinced.  “Right, just because there isn’t anything to see.”  She smirks and points a finger at Cassia.  “I bet you would be looking if he was ‘unplated.’  Tell me I’m wrong.”

Cassia’s mouth opens and closes a few times, mandibles fluttering in embarrassment - because that’s  _ exactly _ what she’d be doing because  _ hey, he’s pretty good looking _ .  Snapping her mouth closed with a click, she looks at the male in the tank pointedly.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  She pouts when Alexia laughs, deciding to ignore her friend’s amusement as she shakes her head and speaks, if only to herself in the noise.  “Besides, I think we should go.  I mean, we’re staring at a guy whose name we don’t even know.”

Quieting down, Alexia flips her hand at the interface projected on the surface of the tank.  “It’s probably in there somewhere.  I doubt mom would just have him named ‘Arcanus’ clone’ or something.”

“He could have a number, knowing your mom.”  Still, Cassia hesitates, hand held mere inches from the interface.

“Hey, who knows  _ their mom _ more?  No, he has a name in there because we both know Arcanus would have given him own.”  She scoffs.  “Who would imprint a guy and not even give him a name?”

Cassia snorts and looks at Alexia in her peripheral.  “The man who made Grunt?”

“ … Doesn’t count.”  She huffs when Cassia thrums, unconvinced by that argument.  “Fine.  If you won’t do it,  _ I  _ will.”

“Nono,” Cassia interjects, grabbing her friend’s hand before she can touch the commands.  She should be the one to find the name since she’s the one who brought up that they’re standing here staring at someone without even knowing their name.  “I’ll do it ….”

Alexia waits a few breaths before speaking.  “ … So?  Are you going to do it or what?”  When Cassia hesitates again, Alexia visibly shifts in the corner of Cassia’s sight,  “Alright.  How about I  _ dare  _ you to.”

Cassia clicks at the childishness of daring her to search through the tank’s information, not willing to admit that it gives her enough confidence to move.  She clicks open the information and searches for anything pertaining to the male’s name, knowing it’ll be a lot better when she no longer has to refer to him as such.  She hums, not knowing Miranda’s way of organizing her work, but soon finds a file within a subsection pertaining to personal information that needs to be imprinted labeled ‘name designation.’  

She snorts at how clinical that sounds, but maybe that’s just how the tank works.  That, or aunt Miranda needs to add some life to her work.

Cassia chuckles at the pun she unintentionally made and feels Alexia’s dubious stare.  “It’s nothing, just had a funny thought.”

“Uh huh.  Believable ….”  She makes her own hum and nudges Cassia’s side.  “Still thinking about him naked, aren’t you?”

“No,” Cassia hisses as she glares sideways at her friend, but the ire falls flat in the face of Alexia’s knowing smirk.  “Oh, shut up.”  Huffing, she turns to the tank interface and opens the command for the name of the tank’s occupant.  “Huh,” she says, looking down to her friend.  “His name is Saren.”

“‘Saren’ as in kill all humans Saren?”

Cassia scowls and playfully pushes Alexia.  “Not all Sarens are evil Sarens, you dork.”

“No, just the one that counts,” Alexia argues, shrugging.  “Not at all ominous.”

Cassia rolls her eyes and turns to the tank, satisfied with knowing his -  _ Saren’s _ \- name.  She won’t look into other things he’s been imprinted with, not  _ that  _ rude and nosy.  She’s sure that, when the time comes, he’ll tell of what he knows, and maybe even a bit about himself.  She’s willing to give him privacy and wait to be told.  

She  _ did  _ see him naked before he was even woken up from his tank, after all.  When the time comes, though, she won’t be the one to admit to ogling.  That’s a bit of information she’ll let slip, and Alexia isn’t bound to tell given as she was doing enough of her own ogling.

“Crap!”  Alexia startles Cassia into visibly jumping.  “My mom’s here.”

“What?”  Cassia trills in shock and spins onto her friend.  “How do you know?”

“I have my tool alert me when she’s within a certain distance.”  She looks up and sees Cassia’s quizzical eye plate rise.  “What?  Would  _ you  _ just want your mom walking in and get into trouble?”  Rolling her eyes at the understanding dawning in Cassia’s eyes, she points to the tank.  “Turn that interface off before she finds out!”  Talking as Cassia scrambles to find a command to hide the interface and proof of them being here messing with it, Alexia sounds like she’s planning out an explanation.  “We can tell her I was showing you the bird.  That’ll only get us in a little trouble ….”

Cassia tries to concentrate, ignoring Alexia’s rambling as she tries to dig herself out of the millions of data files about what seems like way too much any one person should know.  When she gets into the main console, she looks around for anything to turn off the projection of information and turns to Alexia to ask, but that idea quickly disintegrates when she’s only waved at to hurry up.  Flicking her mandibles anxiously, she turns back to the tank, scans over the commands, and finds a ‘deactivate’ command.  She immediately realizes that command wasn’t for what she thought it was for when the tank beeps a long note before the interface does, in fact, turn off.

Only, the tank doesn’t stop there as large bubbles begin to erupt, sending the once still fluids around Saren into a frenzy.  Trilling in sudden understanding of the mess she’s just made.

“Oh, crap,” she says, jaw dropping as she waves her hands over the tank, trying to make the interface come back on and stop the process.

“What’d you  _ do _ ?”  Alexia runs over and skids to a stop just behind Cassia as the level of the slightly blue tinted liquid begins to drop.  “ _ You activated the release sequence?! _ ”

“Who uses ‘deactivate’ as the release code?!”  Cassia responds, raising her voice at the accusatory sound to her friend’s voice.  “What do I do?!”

“How should I know?!”  Alexia is frozen in place, string wide-eyed at the increasingly emptying tank.

Growling at the absolute lack of any useful aid, Cassia turns back to the tank.  “Nono.  Reactivate.  Turn back on.”  When none of her pleas seem to work, she whines softly and rushes back a step as the tank’s lid releases, sliding up.  Her mandibles fall slack at everything really becoming real now that she’s face to face with Saren, no longer having glass and liquid between them.

Suddenly, Saren’s body begins to collapse, no longer suspended within the tank.  Chirping loudly in shock, Cassia shouts out a ‘shit!’ before rushes forward to grab him and keep the newly woken turian from falling face first into the hard lab floor.  He turns out to be heavier than she expected - which, given that she’s never lifted up a grown turian before, isn’t too surprising - and the momentum of his fall landing directly on her sends them both to the ground.  She lands with a pained grunt as the full weight of the still unconscious Saren lands solely on her.

Flicking her mandibles in worry that she really messed him up by releasing him before Miranda had planned, Cassia looks to Alexia in worry.  Their wide, frantic eyes connect just as Saren jolts to life, coughing and spitting up that blue fluid across Cassia’s chest and neck, soaking her shirt in the medicinal scented stuff.  She freezes, unsure what to do as he shifts, slowly coming to enough to move his hands under him, slowly pushing himself up enough to look down at Cassia, his eyes still slightly dazed from the sudden awakening.

“Uh … hi,” Cassia says, smiling weakly and purring reassuringly.  Last thing she wants is to freak him out.  She’s doing enough of that for the both of them.

His rumble is thick with some of the fluid still in his throat as his eyes flick over her face, taking her in.  She doesn’t really see any confusion or upset in his eyes, and it soothes some of her worry.  When he drops his head, coughing slightly as he pulls himself to his feet, Cassia sits up and watches him.

“Do you know where you are?” she asks, but Alexia snorts.

“Do you even know  _ who  _ you are?”  When the words come out of the girl, Cassia glares at her.  “What?  He wasn’t really supposed to be out so soon-”

“Saren,” he says, interrupting them as he looks around the lab.  “I’m in Miranda Lawson’s lab.”  He turns to look behind him at the tank, humming.  “I wasn’t supposed to be released yet.”

Cassia huffs a weak laugh, still sitting below him with his naked form still  _ very  _ close to her.  “Yeah.  Sorry ….”

Rumbling, he drops his eyes to her and steps back from standing over her before offering a hand up.  She takes it with a smile, happy that he at least doesn’t seem to have any hard feelings for the abrupt awakening, and clears her throat once standing. 

“I guess we should get you some clothes or something to dry off,” she says, wiping some sort of vicious goop off his shoulder.  Perhaps the tank fluid had difference consistencies, but she doesn’t really want to ask him.  She could just imagine how the conversation of ‘hey, do you know what that stuff you were floating in was made out of?  Because it doesn’t have the most pleasant look’ would go.

“I’d appreciate that.”  Saren releases her hand and flicks his eyes over her face.  

“Do you know who I am?”

He nods and steps out of her personal space, giving her a chance to take a breath and look Alexia’s way, wondering if his intensity is just because of being woken up or if it’s a genetic thing from kunkle.  She can’t really think on it for too long as she hears the hurried footsteps coming down the hall, heels clicking on the pristine tiles.

“Girls,” aunt Miranda says, her voice reaching the room before she even rounds the corner.  “I got an alert -”  She halts as her blue eyes stop on Saren.  “That the tank was opened ….”

Alexia visibly shrinks at her mother’s stern look, but Cassia speaks up.  “It was me.  I was messing with the tank and, uh ....” she says before glancing to Saren and smiling weakly, “woke up Saren.”

Miranda sighs loudly, ducking her head to rub her forehead as she curses under her breath.  Cassia rumbles in apology, ready to say something when her aunt exhales heavily and lifts her head.  “I’ll have to let Arcanus know.  He wanted to be here when we woke you up,” she says to Saren, “but nothing critical has been interrupted in waking you so soon.”  She looks to Cassia with a scolding look, though it isn’t as harsh as some glares she’s seen her aunt wear.  “I’ll call Arcanus to bring over some clothes.  Cassia?  Can you show Saren where the bathroom is?”

Cassia swallows her nerves and nods, turning to Saren and smiling for him.  “Come on.  Let’s get you cleaned off.”  She starts for the exit, suddenly stopping and jerking back to him.  “Not ‘let’s’ as in you and me, but you.  Let’s as in you.  And I won’t be in the bathroom with you.”  She has no idea why she’s so flustered, not one to stumble over her words, but maybe walking around with a guy she practically woke up into life - who’s also naked and covered in gross stuff - is throwing her off balance.  “Just come on.”

Turning quickly, she nearly runs up the stairs.  She forces herself to slow when she remembers that she’s supposed to be showing Saren the way and not running away from him, leading to the hallway bathroom meant for guests.  Flipping on the lights, she lets him walk into the room and scan everything before clearing her throat.  “You can use the shower to rinse off.  And I’m sure Miranda won’t mind if you use her towels.”  

Saren nods and heads for the shower, turning it on to get hot.  “I only need to get rid of the remnants,” he says over his shoulder and Cassia smiles, pulling the door closed.

Pressing her back to the wall beside the door, Cassia snorts at her own handle on the situation now that she finally has a moment to consider everything.  First, she followed Alexia into the lab  _ clearly  _ off limits, then spent a good time ogling and arguing over staring at an unaware Saren before he was even technically born, then getting so flustered she started tripping over her own words.  It wasn’t like her to give such a bad impression to someone, but she feels like Saren forgives her for being a fool in front of him.  Or, at least, he’s polite enough not to show it.

She sighs to herself and looks down at her own shirt, picking at a blob of the stuff from the tank.  The shirt is probably trash now because she knows full well that mom and dad would never let her wash it in the machine with the possibility that this goop could get all over other clothes.  Seeing as how she also doesn’t want to resort to hand washing it, Cassia figures the trash is the best place for it.  She didn’t really like the shirt all that much anyways and she at least got to catch Saren before he most likely broke his nose on the hard tile.  She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself after knowing the first experience the person  _ she  _ woke up has is breaking a body part falling down before they could even catch themselves.  That alone would make her want to go back in the tank if she were in that position.

When she hears the sound of the door open, she’s reminded of just how out of it she is that she didn’t even pick up on the shower turning off.  Pushing up off the wall, she nearly walks into Saren as he holds out a towel to her.  She stares at it in confusion a moment before he chuckles, the sound making his subvocals give a thrumming sound of amusement.

“I guessed you’d want to at least wipe yourself off even if you won’t have any clean clothes to change into.”  Saren steps back when she takes the towel and starts to wipe her shirt off.

“Yeah,” she agrees, looking at the towel when she manages to wipe off as much as she thinks she’s going to get off her.  “I didn’t really like this shirt all that much anyways.”  Tossing the towel into the hamper of the bathroom, she glances up just in time to see Saren examining her again and she smiles at him when his eyes meet hers again.  “I guess we can go wait somewhere for your … dad?  Is kunkle your dad?”  She looks at his expectantly, seeing confusion flicker in his features before she chuckles at her forgetfulness.  “Arcanus.  Sorry, I’m used to calling him ‘kunkle,’”

“Kunkle?”  Saren lets the word stretch over his tongue as he hums in confusion, making her snort and laugh.

“Long story.”  Taking his hand, she pulls him towards the living room.  “Come on.  I can start showing you the best vids and shows while we wait for you him.”


	27. Bonfire 6/2200

Leaving her after school class, Cassia doesn’t immediately notice her friends until they’ve ambushed her out on the field.  The fact that she had her nose deep in a book was probably to blame, but she would have guessed she would have at least heard them coming with how rushed they were when they run up on her.  Considering that being aware of her surroundings is something dad keeps trying to instill in her and Damocles, she’d think she’d have been prepared, but maybe it’s just a good sign that Cassia isn’t quite so jumpy as dad makes it seem.  She just couldn’t imagine always being so paranoid, but then again, her parents have certainly been made so after all the horrible things they’ve been through, all the people who’ve been underhanded around them.

“So,” Mimi says, dragging the word out as she grins.  “Are you going to the bonfire tonight?”

“The what?”  Cassia shifts her bag from at her side to slip her book in.  “Who’s bonfire?”

Gelta shrugs.  “The older kids always throw one at the end of their last year.  Kinda like a party at finally getting out of school.”

Stopping in her steps, Cassia looks between her friends and raises a brow plate.  “The bonfires are only for the senior students,” she says, her tone speaking to the fact that it should be painfully obvious that they are still in school after the summer break, and thus not invited.  “Younger kids aren’t allowed to go to the bonfires.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Alexia, the youngest of the group, pokes Cassisa in the chest with a grin.  “They’re finally letting the younger kids in. Well, to a certain age.”

“Why?”  Cassia hums in suspicion, concerned just what could happen if younger grades take up the offer.

“ _ I  _ heard it’s because there are some students that aren’t complete assholes in the senior class.  Who’d have thought they all aren’t complete jerks?” Mimi nudges Cassia’s side, smiling as they start walking once more.  “So … Are you going?”

“I ….  Uh ….” Cassia flickers her mandibles shyly and looks between her friends, all three of them wearing equally excited looks on their faces.  “Yes?”

Gelta snorts.  “Well, are you or not?”  Her smile softens and she lowers her voice in mock whisper.  “You can invite Saren,” she sing songs, smirking when Cassia trills in embarrassment.

“Nuh uh!”  Alexia shakes her head firmly, thankfully pulling away everyone’s attention from Cassia’s nervous mandible twitches.  “He’s too old to go.”

“Well…” Mimi argues, drawing out the word, “He’s technically not even a year old….”  She looks sideways at Cassia and smirks wider. “You should bring him.”

Cassia’s mouth opens and closes a few times as her mind blanks at the idea.  Should she take him? Well, of course she  _ should _ because it would be a great way to show him how to open up and relax in the company of others - something they are still working on - but then there’s the growing affection for him that’s starting to make it awfully hard to do  _ anything _ in his company.  Sure, she considers him a great friend, and hopes that he thinks the same of her, but the longer she’s been with him, showing him all the joys of life the tank couldn’t teach him, the harder she seems to be falling.  He may be stiff in the eyes of everyone else, but Cassia has come to know him better in the short time she’s wedged herself into his life.

Where her company started as a self-imposed obligation for waking him up early, it soon changed to a genuine want to know him as a person, as a friend and member of her extended family.  That, though, quickly developed into a desire to just be in his presence over others’ just because her desires switched from wanting friendship to something more. She admired his determination to better himself and thrive to never be stagnant in his life, always occupying his time with something or another.  She also isn’t ashamed to admit that she’s let her eyes linger on him too long at times, taking in the regal way he carries himself - and just plain attractiveness, but she feels much too guilty to acknowledge she’s caught herself ogling her friend more often than not. 

So many compare him to his dad, Saren being a clone the major argument of their similarities, but kunkle is different.  She doesn’t know how to explain it to even herself, but the two males are just  _ different _ in so many ways.  At least, she considers, her family is starting to see Saren as an individual - even if appearances are still considered the same - in his attitude, his self-identity.  Cassia knows the concept of a full grown person just appearing in their lives genetically the same as kunkle wasn’t an easy one to immediately get used to, even kunkle boiling down to awkward silences when it came time for anything resembling father-son bonding, but familiarity settled over their group over the year.  

Now, Saren is one of the family, a cared for person in their circle, but the fact of his creation can still leave some anxiety in how to proceed.  Cassia’s never had that problem, but she can see it in other people, and knows Saren does as well, but perhaps the fact that he, too, is just as out of his element helps the situation from becoming painfully uncomfortable.  That, or her friend is just too good at hiding his emotions on the matter. She’ll admit he’s still hard to read in that aspect, despite her attempts to understand.

She’d like to say that bringing him out to the bonfire will be for his benefit - and though it will, in small part - she really just wants to bring him for the company, for his presence.  If he’d let her, she may even get to show him off and imagine something more than friendship between them. That’s a pipe dream, if she’s ever heard one, though, so it’s best to stay a guilty secret in her own head.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling to herself as she nods.  “I think it’ll be nice to bring him.”

“If he’s even on Virmire and not working-”

“He’s not,” Cassia interrupts, unintentionally cutting Mimi off.  Her quick answer gets the others giggling and sharing knowing looks, but she clears her throat.  “I mean … Yeah. If he’s not working.”

Gelta snorts.  “That was a horrible save, Cass.”

“Come on,” Alexia says, rolling her eyes and smiling playfully, “We all  _ know _ you have a big crush on him-”

“For whatever reason,” Mimi cuts in, grin on her face teasing.

Cassia scoffs and flicks her mandibles.  “Okay, I like him. So what?” When she pauses to get an answer, her friends merely laugh and she sighs.  “Is it obvious?”

The other three girls nod emphatically, trying and failing to hide their knowing smirks or control their waggling eyebrows.

“You’re horrible,” Cassia says, exasperated before shaking her head.  “Alright. I’ll go.” She groans at the task it’ll be to get everyone she wants to go to actually agree.  “I’ll  _ try _ to get others to go too.”

“Great!”  Gelta bounces on her feet and clasps her hands.  “That settles it! Come to Paradise Pass in an hour.  That’s where they’re having the bonfire.”

“‘An hour?’”  Cassia’s eyes widen and she trills in shock.  “How am I supposed to get everyone to agree to coming in only an hour?”

“Please, we all know you only have two people to convince, Saren and your idiot brother,” Mimi says with a snort, quirking her lips as the four of them stop at the edge of the residential district where Cassia will split from the others to walk to her house opposite of the living sector.

Cassia frowns, not completely agreeing to her ‘idiot brother.’  Lately, he’s been closing in on himself, withdrawing and going quite.  She has a feeling it’s because of the changes ever since Saren was woken up, but she doesn’t know why it’s affecting him so much.  Sure, kunkle has cut down on his biotic training to almost nothing and Damo really enjoyed testing himself on the strong barriers, but it’s not like kunkle has completely left their lives.  If anything, he comes to mom and dad more often because he’s obviously at a loss on how to have a son. Ellie too, but she’s not as out of her element as he is. Cassia is happy for kunkle, knowing that even if it’s not really a normal way to have a son, he and Ellie are happy with the decision.  Cassia guesses that it just isn’t the same to have - in essence - grandchildren as it is to have their own ‘child’ to lead and carry on when they can no longer work. Saren may be an adult, but even Cassia will admit that he still has much to learn from his dad that can’t be taught by a computer in a tank.

Still, it really seems to have bothered Damo, and she just can’t understand why.  It seems like, over the year, she has lost more and more of him, fallen further away from knowing his mind and emotions.  It’s frightening, but knows it isn’t fair to force her own will on him even if she hurts seeing him like this. She hopes that she will still continue to be a confidant for him even if he comes to her less and less.

The others seem to see her concern as their expressions drop.  Mimi lays a hand on Cassia’s arm and frowns. “Are you okay?”

Cassia nods and smiles, even if giving it feels like a physically lifting the weight of her emotions.  “Yeah. Just got lost in thought.” Laying her hand on Mimi’s, she thrums reassuringly. “I should hurry home while I still have time.”

Mimi and the others smile weakly, but don’t push.  Waving goodbye, they head further down the main street of the residential district, leaving Cassia to walk home alone.  She misses the afternoons of walking side by side with Damocles, but he’s taken to training himself after school, while she signed herself up for various after school classes.  She works on her physical and biotic strengths with mom and dad, but she uses her free time to keep her mind challenged, to continue to build on her knowledge. Her brother, on the other hand, spends his time pushing himself to be better than the day before and looks forward to the first time they’ll finally see combat.  She barely sees him relax anymore, the only person able to distract him their cousin, Aeson, when he comes over with new comics or video games.

When she arrives home, mom and dad are gone somewhere.  It’s not too surprising that they’d be out of the house, finally confident that Cassia and her brother can be left alone without destroying something, and Cassia is both proud that she is trustworthy enough and happy for them to finally be able to relax.  She can’t imagine what it’s like to always be looking out for the next big mess she and her brother would get into just for fun and the thrill.

Setting her bag down in the entryway, Cassia checks the armory, then the workout room, and finds them both empty.  She hums in thought over where else Damo could be, she walks into the living room and glances to the second floor banister.  

“Damo?  You home?” she calls out, giving a moment for her brother to answer.  She doesn’t hear music, so she knows he’d be able to hear her if he wanted, but opens her omni-tool and sends him a message just in case he has headphones on.

Getting no response, she frowns in frustration, but has one more place to look.  Perhaps he already visited the armory and is practicing out on the beach. Dad did give them new rifles to test out and, unfortunately, Damo seemed to be struggling with keeping his shots straight and center, so maybe he’s working on the skill outside.  She steps out onto the porch and catches him standing at the edge of the water, seemingly throwing something into the water. She walks out to him, rumbling in concern when she can finally get a good look at what exactly he’s doing.

There’s one thing they’ve noticed about Damo recently, he often uses his biotics to vent his emotions.  Mom and dad even purchased biodegradable disks usually made for shooting practice on moving targets when he cleaned their section of beach of any rocks he could throw into the waves.  On one hand, he was working on his biotics, honing his ability to hold and propel objects, but on the other, Cassia knew he was hiding something, using the rush of biotics to drain himself and ease whatever emotion he was feeling.  She knew him all too well to know he reasons were mostly the latter.

“Damo?”  She steps closer, sticking to the opposite side of the disks, and he grunts in acknowledgment, but thankfully pauses his throwing.  It’s a good sign, one that shows he’s willing to at least listen. “I was wondering if you wanted to go to a bonfire tonight. The senior students have actually open the celebration up to some of the younger classes.”

“Yeah.  I heard.”  He turns to her.  “You’re taking your boyfriend.”  His tone makes it painfully obvious that is far from any question, more akin to an accusation.

Still, Cassia doesn’t take the bait and pulls her mandibles in, squaring her shoulders.  “Yes. I think it’ll make a nice evening. You should go too.”

“No thanks,” he says, a low rumbling to his tone as he returns to his biotic throwing, the force in it noticeably stronger.

She sighs and drops her shoulders.  “You don’t have to hang out with him.  There are other people.” Scowling when he merely hums and puts more energy than necessary into a launched disk, causing it to explode in the air above the water.  “Damo-”

“No.  I don’t want to go,” he says, stopping to turn his head to her.  “ _ Especially  _ if he’s going.”

Growling, she slaps the disk out of the air as if hovers in the air, before he can throw it.  “What’s your problem? Saren hasn’t done anything!”

Damo doesn’t flinch at her growing anger as he turns to face her directly.  “I’ll tell you what my problem is. How about the fact that he just shows up and suddenly gets all the things  _ we  _ have had to work our asses off to even be considered for?  It hasn’t even been a  _ year, _ and he’s out their taking jobs!  Think about it, Cass! He had three months training and suddenly he’s out their  _ on his own _ !”  He growls and waves his hand towards the majority of the Wraith compound.  “We spend our entire lives training, and we  _ still _ have to work together straight out on the field.”

“Wow,” she says, scoffing as she shakes her head.  “If you don’t like the idea of working with me, you could’ve said it better than that.”

“I  _ like  _ the idea of being able to choose,” he responds, emphasizing his words.  “Saren didn’t go through the shit we’ve gone through to prepare for combat.  He learned everything sitting on his ass, being fed data through a tank. What the fuck does he know about work?  About having to fight for everything? Just because he’s kunkle’s son, he gets preferential treatment-”

“And  _ we’re  _ mom and dad’s kids?  Did you forget they’re the bosses too?”  She crosses her arms, getting tired of her brother’s unfounded hate for her friend.

“Do you see us being giving jobs when we ask for them?  When we  _ work  _ for them?”  He waits, as if for an answer, and continues when she merely glares at him.  “Right. You don’t.”

Sighing, Cassia rubs her forehead.  “That’s not the only reason you don’t like him.  There are more personal reasons.” She looks at him, growling low and threatening.  “You just don’t like him. Maybe he rubs you the wrong way, maybe you’re upset about him getting attention when you had it all this time-”

“It has nothing to do with that-”

“It has everything to do with that!”  She throws up her arms. “I can tell you one thing off the top of my head.  How about the time you spend with kunkle? You used to always go to him to train your biotics - looking forward to it - and now Saren is here, occupying kunkle.”  Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and fights to keep her anger down. “You’re jealous, Damo.”

She feels him step closer to her and she opens her eyes, coming face to face with his curled withering glare.  “You know nothing about what it’s like. You don’t have any idea what it’s like to be pushed aside suddenly when you did nothing because you’re too attracted to Saren.  It’s easy for you because you don’t  _ need  _ to prove yourself, you just succeed at whatever you do,” he says, snarling in his vocals as he uses his drastic height difference - the two of them shooting up in height in one really painful growth not too long ago - to tower over her.  “Don’t lecture me unless you’ve walked in my shoes.”

She hates him in her space, aggressive and radiating in wisps of dark energy that lick at her own biotics.  Shoving him to take a step away from her, she shoves a finger in his face. “I can’t believe you! You’re such a selfish child!  You shove everyone away when they try to help!” Backing up a step, making it obvious that she will get the last word in and leave him to stew in his anger, she lets her rage fuel her words as she yells at him.  “It’s no wonder you don’t have any friends!”

All her fury, every hateful word on her tongue, vanishes in the immediate moment she realizes what she’s said.  Sudden hurt flashes in her brother’s eyes, gone before she can react to the solid mask of indifference he wears all too often now.  She keens and steps closer to him, clenching her hands in a burning regret at her callous words that she  _ knew  _ would cut deeper than any blade.  

“Damo, I’m sorry,” she whispers, mandibles quivering as she inwardly curses her stupid, vicious reaction.

“No, you’re right,” he says, returning to his place beside the throwing disks and lifting one.  “Have fun at the bonfire tonight.”

Keening and trilling softly, Cassia reaches out to him, but stops.  She opens and closes her hands, mouth working with silent pleas to forgive her, but she drops her arm with a sad sigh.  Nothing she can say or do right now will make him forgive her, forget the horrible things she said to him, and she knows him enough that the only remedy is for her to leave him be.  She gives him one more apology that he doesn’t respond to - not that she expected it - and heads back to the house.

She waits until the back door closes before dropping her head, trilling in regret.  Damo was being a jerk, but he didn’t deserve that, nobody does. It’s not like he can just make friends with the kids at school with how they’re either afraid or disgusted of him.  She is lucky because she has her friends, but, then again, it seems like the boys are meaner kids than the girls in class. Cassia doesn’t blame Damo for not wanted to have any friendship with girls, rather easing tension instead.  ‘Less attachment,’ he once said to her, and it hurts to know that’s what his relationships have boiled down to.

She knows, though, that going out there again to try and be heard will go over just as well as trying to get a chew toy from Xero.  Glancing outside once more to watch her brother, Cassia takes a deep breath and forces her mind to wash away the regret, to imagine what tonight could be like if she lets herself enjoy it.  That is what she holds onto as she heads into the downstairs closet and searches for the large blanket she uses out on the beach when she just wants to relax instead of swim. It keeps sand from getting between her plates when she lays in the softest of it just beyond the waterline, and she thinks it’ll come in handy tonight, because she can just imagine the amount of complaint she’ll get from Saren if he gets the gritty stuff in his plates.

Spirits, it was bad enough when she first dragged him into the water waist deep and he promptly pulled her right back out, stating something about the fact that he just had water full of fish excrement touching his bare waist.

He could be such a baby when he overthought things.

Finding her blanket, Cassia tucks the bundle under her arm and heads for the door.  She doesn’t think she’d need much else, and if she does, she can always rush back home or to the general store near the beach under dire circumstances.  She stops and looks over her shoulder at the back windows and beach beyond, but sighs and gives her head a single shake. She won’t let the argument ruin her night with her friends.  Damo will just have to stew for the night and they’ll talk later once they’ve both cooled down. Nothing will come out of her going out there now besides more frustration and a ruined evening.

She leaves the house and heads towards kunkle’s, knowing that there is the best place to find Saren, or at least to ask kunke where she could find him.  It saves her the time it’d take to walk all the way to the compound where he could be working or training, so she’s really hoping today is one of those rare days Saren is home.  Climbing the few steps to the sleek, well kept home, Cassia taps the intercom console and hears the resulting chime through the door as it echoes throughout the house. She also hears the sound of footsteps and fidgets on her toes, hoping she doesn’t have to literally wrestle Saren into going.  After the blow out with Damo, she just wants someone to go easy on her and agree without too big a fuss.

The door slides open and Cassia smiles up at kunkle as he immediately looks at the blanket before glancing up at her, a brow plate lifted in question.

Cassia chuckles, stepping in when kunkle motions to enter with a wave of his hand as he moves aside.  “I was hoping I could drag Saren out to a bonfire the senior kids are having.”

“Good luck,” kunkle says, crossing his hands behind his back once the door closes.  “He is in the armory.”

Cassia smiles and nods once, leading the way to kunkle’s armory.  “Is Ellie home, too?”

“No.  Unfortunately, it seems you have just missed her.”  When she looks over her shoulder, rumbling curiously, he responds in kind with his own vocals.  “She seemed quite interested in a new shipment of tech the Wraiths have received. I believe she intends to compare the newest omni-tools to her own.”

Cassia chirps at how enthusiastic her aunt Ellie can be when it comes to tech that could come in handy on her own jobs.  Cassia doubts any of the new tools coming in will come close to Ellie’s customly modified one, but it never hurts to look.  Cassia sometimes finds herself digging through the newest mechanical parts for the shuttles and gunships when they come in, so she doesn’t find her aunt’s excitement all that strange.  It actually makes her happy to see that her aunt still gets excited over her work.

Coming to the armory, kunkle stops her at the threshold by placing a hand on her shoulder.  Looking up to him with a confused thrum, Cassia opens her mouth to ask what’s wrong, but stops when he holds up a hand.

“See if you can pull him away from the modifications he has been installing on his drone,” kunkle says, glancing into the room and at Saren, his head down as he works.  Cassia knows that look well enough to know he’s completely zoned out, comfortable enough at home to let himself focus completely on his work instead of have half of his attention on his surroundings. 

“Okay, kunkle..”  Cassia nods and smiles up to him.  “One relaxing distraction, coming up.”

Kunkle nods in approval and removes his hand, remaining in the hall as he watches Cassia go in.  She knows kunkle is trying to be the dad he wanted to be when he thought about having Saren, but she can tell it’s still a new concept to him.  It’s not as uncomfortable awkward as before, where neither of them really knew how to breach the topic of their relation to one another, but it seems enough has built that Saren looks to kunkle for guidance and as someone to strive to emulate.

She sets the blanket down on the weapon’s bench, knowing well enough that none of them would allow the surface to be dirty to the point that it will ruin the fabric.  Walking up to Saren, she steps beside him and waits to see how long it’ll take him to notice her presence. She clasps her hands behind her back and lifts onto the tips of her toes, then lowers, her vocals trilling with her amusement, but when that doesn’t even get his attention away from a circuit board, Cassia sighs in exasperation.  Closing the gap between herself and Saren’s side, she waits until he sets the soldering tool down before she leans down into his line of sight and grins.

“Hi,” she says when she sees the spark of surprise before it quickly turns to recognition, even if there’s still a bit of confusion mixed in those brilliantly golden eyes.

“Cassia,” Saren says, watching as she rights herself before glancing back to kunkle in the hallway.  “Is there something wrong?”

She nods her head, rumbling in excitement.  “Uh huh.” Smiling, she releases her hands and jerks a thumb over her shoulder as she says, “There’s a bonfire happening down at Paradise Pass with all the older kids.”  When he doesn’t react, his expression still not showing that sudden realization, she giggles. “ _ We’re  _ going.”

Saren shakes his head softly, humming as he turns in his seat to get back to his work.  “I have multiple tests to run once I finish these modifications-”

“Saren,” kunkle says, his voice urging, yet still holding that bit of sterness he can never seem to quite let go of, “You have been working since you returned to Virmire.  Your work can wait.” Kunkle looks to Cassia, as if in question, and she nods with a purr. “Go, son. You should enjoy it.”

Saren makes a unconvinced buzz with his vocals, and Cassia knows he’s about two seconds away from coming up with another excuse.  Seeing him pick up the soldering tool once more, Cassia growls, leans forward, and clicks the tool off. He grunts in surprise at her invading his work space, but she ignores him as she grins and plucks the tool from his hand and sets it on its stand.

“Come on, workaholic,” she says as she grabs his hand and pulls on him, literally dragging him out of his seat.  Grinning at his highly unamused glare, she purrs and jerks him one last time so that the two of them are right at the doorway to the armory.  “Now, grab the blanket and let’s go.”

Saren must know what the blanket means and, though he grabs it, rumbles in exasperation.  “You’re really planning to be there all night, aren’t you?”

“Pretty much,” she responds with a chirp and grabs his hand once he takes the blanket in the other.  Putting some force into making him follow, she waves at kunkle as she heads for the door. “Bye, kunkle!”

She knows kunkle’s nod for what it is and thrums, smiling to Saren over her shoulder once they exit the house.  “You’ll like it, trust me.”

“I reserve judgement.”

She snorts and laughs at his grumpiness, not sure she’d want Saren any other way.  Sure, he can be a bit of a pain to get to do anything concerning socializing or getting out of his deep, dark corner in the workshop, but she thinks it just adds to his character.  It also makes a huge statement when she can actually get him out and about. Eventually, he even stops resisting on the walk and moves in step with her. It doesn’t stop his occasional question of the purpose of this gathering, but she can deal with that, answering every question she knows he mostly has just to tempt her to give up.  It seems that he still has to learn that she has her parents’ stubbornness and will get her way whether he grumbles about it or not.

The sun is setting as they reach Paradise Pass and there are already so many kids around the beach, some mingling about the food tables, others cooking on small fires, and even more at the water’s edge to swim and show off in the waves.  The large bonfire hasn’t been set yet, some of the older boys setting up the long pieces of wood into a steeple, but Cassia figures that’s probably because they’re waiting for the sun to completely set before lighting what’s going to be a huge fire.  Looking over the beach, she tries searching for her friends, leading Saren into the party.

“We should get something to eat,” she says, glancing his way and smiling.  “You hungry?”

“Even if I say ‘no,’ you’re still going to get me food, aren’t you,” he says, not really asking what should be obvious.  

She grins and nods.  “Of course. It’s beach food!  You should enjoy!”

“It’s food cooked by underagged students.”  He hums and flicks his mandible in discomfort.  “I’d rather not.”

She laughs and yanks him to the tables, grabbing two tuparis.  When he gives her a dubious look, glancing at the bottles, she responds with a playful glare and stern growl.  He’s  _ going _ to enjoy himself.  He’s not going to turn into a hermit on her watch.

“Cassia?”  A familiar voice stops her and she cringes at being called on by her brother’s best friend, their cousin Aeson.  It all just brings the fight the two of them had back. When she turns to the younger male, she sees him frowning and looking around the crowd.  “Where’s Damo?”

She feels Saren’s gaze on her, his knowing look itching at her plates, but she smiles weakly at Aeson.  “He decided to stay home.”

“Oh,” Aeson says, rumbling in disappointment.  “I kinda figured you’d make him come.”

She hums and lowers her head slightly.  “I … yeah, he didn’t want to go.” Getting an idea, she trills and releases Saren’s hand to grip Aeson’s shoulder.  “You should go see him! I bet he’d love it if you brought him a big plate of food.”

The younger turian smiles softly and nods.  “Yeah. The bonfire probably won’t be any good, anyways.”  He looks between Cassia and Saren, flickering his mandibles as if he wants to say something else, but he just nods and smiles warmly instead.  “Thanks, Cassia.”

Cassia nods, rumbling in goodbye as Aeson heads for the tables to gather food he’ll take home to Damo.  Hopefully, having his best friend around calm some of Damo’s anger, soothe the pain she left. She doesn’t know how or why, but her cousin always seems to be a cooling salve for her brother.  Maybe it has to do with being the only boy, and they share in the feeling of being outcasts because of Aeson’s dad, but, whatever the reason, Cassia is thankful for it. She sometimes feels like she’s abandoning her brother the further apart they grow in days like today, but she can’t force herself to give up her friends because her brother is withdrawn where she’s outgoing.

She doesn’t even know she’s been walking until she’s stopped with a hand wrapping around her elbow.  Blinking away her daze, she looks over to Saren and he releases her, motioning to the water with a tilt of his head.

“You’re getting too close to the water.  We’ll be soaked when the tide comes in if we go any further,” he explains and, without prompting, turns away to roll out the blankets.

“Oh.”  Looking around, she flutters her mandibles in embarrassment.  “Guess I was daydreaming.”

“No.  You were worrying.”

“What?”  She looks down to him in surprise, not knowing he could read her so easily.  “How did you know?”

“You make the same vocal hum everytime.”  Standing straight, he looks to her expectantly. 

Snorting at her forgetfulness of the obvious expression of waiting for her to sit down, Cassia sits down on the blanket, the soft sand beneath cushioning her rear.  She grabs Saren’s hand and tugs, forcing him to finally admit defeat and sit with her. No way he’s getting out of enjoying tonight now that he’s sitting down beside her.  If he tries, she can always resort to her other tactics of going limp on him or just plain getting in the way of his retreat. 

It’s still a mystery to her how he can really put up with her childish tactics, but he does, never once getting angry with her.  Now, exasperated is a different story, but she never feels ire from him directed at herself.

“Here,” she says, holding up the two tupari.  “I grabbed two flavors. Which would you like?”

“You couldn’t have grabbed water?”  He looks between the drinks, his face showing his absolute refusal to drink either of the two flavors.

“Bor-ring!”  Chirping, she reads the flavors and hands him the less sweet bottle.  If he won’t chose, than she will. She pops open her drink, and has to grab his pant leg when he uses the moment she’s drinking to stand.  “Mm umm!” She swallows and scowls at him, pulling on his pant. “Sit and drink or I ruin your pants. Or you have to walk home without them.”  She grins teasingly at the last bit.

“You wouldn’t,” he challenges, but still gives her a weary look.  When she grins and nods once, he sighs and sits down, resigned to pout.

Snorting, Cassia recloses her bottle and grabs his to open it for him.  “Come on. You haven’t even  _ tried  _ tupari before.”

“How do you know I haven’t tasted it when you weren’t around?”  He leans away from the offered bottle. “And hated it?”

Rolling her eyes in a human expression, she grabs his arm and pulls him closer so he has no choice but to get the bottle or have it spill all over him.  He rumbles grumpily, but takes a hesitant drink. The resulting expression of his disgust makes her laugh aloud, stealing her breath. She gasps for breath without having to stop laughing, leaning against his side as her mandibles flap rapidly and she clenches her eyes against the burn in her chest.  Through it all, Saren looks like her in bewilderment, as if astounded that she could find the situation so humorous.

“Sorry,” she says in between gasps, her voice hoarse.  “Sorry ….” Her giggles obviously don’t convince him of her sincerity as he huffs, recaps the bottle, and set it far away from his side of the blanket.  “What? You’re not going to drink any more?”

“No,” he says firmly, glancing down to her still leaning against his arm. “You seem to enjoy it well enough for the both of us.”

Rumbling away the last of her amusement, she smiles at him and lifts herself off his side.  “Fine, fine. More for me.”

He stands by his insistence to stay far from the tupari, but she eventually gives in and goes with him to get some bottles of water.  She still doesn’t believe him enough to let him go alone and expect him to return, so she waited until her friends came around to watch their blanket.  When they had finally gotten settled, some of the students tending to the fire pit called everyone’s attention to them.

With the stars sparkling high above and moon in the clear sky, the bonfire was lit.  It took a bit for the fire to grow and engulf the massive pile of wood, but once the flame took to it, it could be seen even at the farthest reaches of the beach.  Many of the kids were comfortable just watching the fire, maybe cuddling or sharing the last of their meals, but there were still some active in the waters or on the fringes of the beach.  Cassia was content surrounded by her friends as she watched the fire flicker and dance.

The longer the fire burned, the more relaxed others became.  Some of the younger students, and even her friends, returned to their homes.  Cassia noticed the fact that most of the younger students leaving were of species where their age would be considered still young, but at only a year away from her fifteenth birthday, she didn’t feel the urging to go home.  It didn’t feel late to her, and after sending her parents a message that she’d be out later than usual, mom and dad agreed that she could stay as long as she felt. They trusted Saren, she knew, and she felt at ease this late out on a beach with many students who would rather want nothing to do with her.

Laying back on the blanket, Cassia looks up at the stars peeking through the wisps of smoke from the flames.  She notices Saren glance down to her and smiles, reaching for his sleeve and tugging gently. “Lay down?”

He rumbles, as if considering, but lays down beside her, shifting around a bit to get comfortable.  Apparently settled, his eyes lift to the skies above them and Cassia takes a long moment to watch him before her mandibles flutter shyly, forcing her to turn away before she’s caught staring.  

“Where do you think the Serpent Nebula is?”  She feels his gaze on her, knowing there’s a question in his expression, and she shrugs.  “I’ve never been to the Citadel before. I’m curious where it is.”

He hums beside her.  “The Widow system only contains a single star.  It’d be difficult to find it. Granted, if we’re even in a position to see it.”

Cassia snorts and tilts her head at him.  “Shush. You’re ruining my imagining.”

He merely flicks a mandible, but doesn’t protest or bring up any more - completely logical - arguments.  That reacting, in and of itself, makes her chuckle.

Her chuckle slows and soon dies as her mind drifts.  With Saren’s attention on the stars, could she make the smallest of shifts closer?  Does she even  _ want  _ to?  Well, yes, but the question is really does she have the guts to do it?  What she has with Saren, to be in his self-imposed barriers, already is more than she could have hoped for, so she’s stuck on whether or not she should move for anything more.

“You’re worrying again,” he says, a single golden eye taking her in as he still faces the sky.  Her mandibles move on their own in her embarrassment, at being caught just staring at the side of his face, and she tries to say something, only succeeding in gaping like a fish in response.  “Cassia.”

“Sorry.  I didn’t mean to stare.”

He finally turns to her.  “I wasn’t talking about that.”  Rumbling curiously, his eyes flick over her face.  “Something’s wrong.”

“I said something horrible to Damo earlier,” she lies, already resigned to accepting her mistake and vowing to make it up to her brother.  She can’t really admit that she’s really debating if she should make a move or not on a guy that, she’ll admit, doesn’t have a clue about social interactions if he hasn’t learned it from her.  She knows he’s got the whole ‘blowing off steam’ thing down, something  _ she  _ hasn’t even touched thanks to her inability to consider how to disassociate during sex with just anybody.  

It’s different with Saren, and she’s afraid of the consequences of feeding that desire to open herself up to someone who has no idea what that really means.  Or, if he did, he even wanted to share with her. Is it worth messing up a friendship?

_ Oh, hell ….. _

“Saren?”  Her voice is soft as she speaks, scooting slightly closer to him and giving him a shy smile.  When he rumbles in acknowledgement and lifts a brow plate, she thrums and swallows down her nerves.  Now’s the time to be daring - and suffer the consequences. “Can I …. Uh.” She clears her throat and hums in nerves, biting it all down to close the gap and press her forehead to his once before dropping a flat kiss to his mouth.

She closes her eyes as she purrs and slowly backs away, afraid to see his reaction.  He’s not growling or yelling at her, so that’s at least good, but she wonders just how much that is acceptance and how much is just not knowing what a kiss means, and that he should probably be offended for having one without his consent.

Cracking her eyes open, she smiles weakly, but sees no upset in his face.  “Do you … have any idea what a kiss is?” she says, really hoping his lack of reaction is just because he doesn’t know how to express whatever he’s feeling and not that she short circuited him with such a rude violation of his person.

“I know what a kiss is,” he says, as if that’s obvious.

“And … are you upset?”  She trills in apology, but he shakes his head.  “What? You’re not?”

“Why would I be?”

“Because I kissed you without your okay?”  She quirks a brow plate before sighing. “Don’t you kiss other girl?  Know that just kissing someone is rude?”

“No.”  He rumbles and sits up on his elbow, explaining when she gives him a confused look, not sure what he’s saying ‘no’ to.  “I don’t kiss. It’s too personal.”

Cassia visibly shrinks.  “Right …. And I just did that.  Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he snaps, but his vocals aren’t harsh.  His tone is one of finality as he lens closer. “I don’t know how to do it appropriately, but if you still want it, I can learn.”

Her mind completely blanks as her mouth falls open, mandibles dropping slack.  Certainly, he knows what he’s saying, what he’s offering. It’s all too much to process, from his acceptance to his  _ actual offer  _ to try again.  What does that say about right now that he’s willing to kiss her after just saying it’s too personal for anyone else?  Does she really want to dive into the train of thought while it seems like her brain just fried itself?

No, she doesn’t.  She wants to accept the moment before he can change his mind.

Purring, she lifts her head closer.  “I don’t really know how to, either,” she admits, voice soft as she hesitantly presses her forehead to his.  “I’m kinda just improving it.”

He simply hums in response as he presses back before parting.  She admits to whining pathetically in protest, but he silences her when he presses his mouth to hers.  She’s seen enough vids and others kiss to know to relax her jaw, slipping her tongue out to tease the edge of his mouth plates.  When he responds in kind, rougher tongue meeting hers to curl and stroke one another, she thrums deeply at his smoky taste, the strength of him in his saliva dancing across her tongue.

Closing her eyes, Cassia lifts a hand to cup his face, both to selfishly hold him against escape and to help plant herself to reality.  The feel of his plates, the sound of his vocals, and shift for a better position is all too good to be true, but it has to be. No dreams she’s had have been even close, even gone as far as to taste him, feel his own touch as he lifts her chin to get a better angle for their kiss.

She pants into his mouth and pulls back to look up at him, to make sure he isn’t about to suddenly realize what he’s doing and bolt.  She sees nothing but that special, relaxed look he gives her and only her, and she smiles, leaning up to nuzzle his forehead. Soon, though, it’s not enough and she has to dip down for another taste of him, another tangle of their tongues as they slide and caress against one another.  Each lick and soft thrum of him against her tongue send a flush of heat through her and she slides her hands along his face in search of something to make him feel good.

Her fingers slide along his long fringes against his cheeks before dipping beneath them to glide her talons against the hide she’s read to be sensitive.  That makes him pause a fraction of a second before he growls heavily and presses harder into their kiss. She purrs, the sound making her body react and need more, but he pulls away.

“You need to stop,” he says, breath slightly hitched with each touch of her fingers and talons along his neck and fringe.  “If you don’t want this to go any further, it’s best we stop.” He dips his head to her neck when she frowns in confusion, and she hears him inhale deeply.  “I can smell you, but I don’t know if you’re sure. You need to be sure.”

Cassia leans her head against his and closes her eyes.  Is there really a question? She might regret it later, but she also really hopes their relationship can be more than just friends.  If that means it stops at friends who have sex with each other, then she can live with it. 

She hopes so, at least.

Nodding, she rumbles and nudges his shoulders to lean up.  She smiles at him, taking in his darkened eyes and flaring nose plates.  She’s sure she’s just as out of sorts as he is if the electrified heat tickling her spine and hyper awareness of him are any indication.

“I’m sure, Saren,” she says as she presses her forehead to his.  “I’m sure.”

That seems to be all he needs as he dips he head to her neck and runs his tongue along her pulse, making her gasp.  He doesn’t need to work on her hide long before she scrambling for his clothes, whining needingly and pressing flat kisses to his face and neck.  He cups her face to force her into a rough forehead press, rubbing his plates against hers before he lets her pull him over her leg to settle against her.

She shamelessly presses to him, growling when he pulls away to do the logical thing and actually get there clothes into a position where they can actually have sex.  She helps him push down her shorts, but pauses, fluttering her mandibles in embarrassment once she’s bared to him. She knows her plates are parted, and that it’s natural in her state, but she’s never had anyone see her bare before, seen this part of her.

Instead of speak, but obviously noticing her discomfort, Saren presses his mouth to hers softy and rumbles in question.  He doesn’t need words for her to know that he’s looking for reassurance. That he cares enough to push aside his own obvious desire makes her smile and thrum shakily, nodding and wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss.

He uses her occupied state to enter her, making her gasp at the sudden sensation.  She jerks and stares at him wide eyed, and he pauses to gauge her expression.

“Please don’t stop,” she whines, gripping his shoulders.  “But go easy?”

“Of course,” he says, a tone of bewilderment she needed to even ask in his voice, and she huffs an airy laugh at him still being so … Saren even now.

He doesn’t take the laugh seriously as he watches her face as he pushes further into her.  She has no idea how much of him their is or that she even could  _ fit  _ anything, but there’s no pain, so it must be possible.  When his body finally comes flush and they’re keels are pressed side by side in a way that their vocals create a resonance, Saren pauses and lets her pull him into a kiss, even if it’s a bit messy.

She doesn’t last but a few moves of his hips, but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it as he waits it out.  Ashamed that she can’t continue, too sore already for it to be anything but a nuisance, Cassia can’t look him in the eye when he pulls from her unsatisfied.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, ducking her head even as he lays down beside her.

“Why?”  He rumbles and turns his head to look at her, confusion on his face.  “Tenderness is a natural response to your first sexual encounter.”

She sighs in exasperation, yet happy that he hasn’t changed even if she’s taken pleasure and given him none in return.  True, he probably won’t want to do it again, but he doesn’t seem to be holding it as a tarnishment to their friendship.

“How about we try to forget you just equating this into a science lesson and enjoy the rest of the fire?”  She smiles and scoots closer to him on the blanket. “And I’ll try to find a way to make it up to you. Just say it and I’ll do it.”

Her only answer is a soothing sounding rumble as Saren turns to the sky, eyes flicking over the stars.  Cassia smiles at him, seeing him in a new light, before she rolls against his side and joins him before he can call her out on her staring again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the end of the Parable series. However, I will need to take a small break to plan the next installment. 
> 
> I will be writing a collection of smutty one shots for the ABCs of Smut with Jane and Garrus, so if you have any words you'd like, comment or send me a message on my Tumblr :)

**Author's Note:**

> While I will try to keep one-shots in order timeline wise, I'll leave a relative date in each chapter title. Once again, I'm completely open to ideas anyone wants to see. :)


End file.
